Her Middle Name Was Boom
by White N Nerdy
Summary: It’s Riley Poole as the greatest action hero of all time! Sort of. When Riley is mistaken for a secret government agent, he becomes involved in a brand new adventure with the woman of his dreams. Now if he could only get his mom to stop calling him...
1. When it's home

**Her Middle Name Was "Boom"**

"She just walked in and…'BOOM!' she said." –Glassjaw

_Rated T for violence, language, and some…let's call them sensual situations._

**Foreword**

Here it is for those few of you who actually read and reviewed "Cubicles"—thanks LoremIpsum, Thuraya Known, Miss Fenway, rileyluver17, InkStainedBlood, master of time, and smileyali (happy birthday, btw) for your kind words and your enthusiasm. This story's for you guys :)

Not a song fic, I just borrowed the title and some lyrics for chapter titles. No one's middle name is actually Boom, I just needed something really random and exciting for this action packed comedy action romance action suspense action kind of thing because I hate coming up with titles. Did I mention the action? I actually first thought up the story up while I was doing the "Choose Your Own Adventure" story. So this is probably the reason I half assed most of "Losing His Touch." See, when this particular idea popped into my head I'd been going to the movies a lot. In fact in my entire life I've probably already spent millions of dollars at AMC theaters alone. Anyway I saw both "Wanted" (such a great movie) and "Get Smart" (waste of my time) in the same week and I wanted to write something with a lot of action and with that kind of girl-and-guy-working-together-to-save-the-world kind of motif only with "National Treasure" characters. Actually just Riley. There's no Ben, no Abigail, no Patrick, no Sadusky, no anybody, so it's pretty AU-ish in that sense.

And, wow, now I write stuff with romance too! Or a little bit of romance at least. I am not generally interested in in-depth romance, and I think the only romantic film I've ever really enjoyed has to be "Punch Drunk Love." They talk about hurting things and each other while they're having sex. Trust me, it's funny. Which reminds me to tell you that I swear there is nothing sexually graphic in my story. This is primarily an action comedy (a la more recent films like "Pineapple Express" and "Tropic Thunder," both of which were awesome) so hopefully I'm really as funny as I think I am. If I'm not, just pretend to laugh, please.

And now to begin this completely ridiculous tale that I'm sooo excited to finally be posting. Schedule wise…I'm not saying anything. I'm not as, uh, done as I thought I'd be at this point. Oops. Expect regular updates and I hopefully won't keep you guys hanging for more than a week or so. Also keep in mind that I'm out of ideas for National Treasure stories. So this may be it, people.

**Chapter I: When it's home**

All around him, as far as the eye could see, were fields of green grass and brightly colored wildflowers. He was lying on his back in the middle of said field, staring up into the cloudless blue sky, imagining that if he looked hard enough he could see into the far reaches of endless space. He sighed euphorically. The setting was perfect…

"Oh, Riley!"

…And _she _was perfect.

He pushed himself up on his elbows so he could see her better. Her smooth, pale skin and beautifully curved body that was barely hidden behind a translucent white night gown. She had flowing blonde hair that danced in the light breeze around her bright smile. Riley _loved _blondes. Especially when they weren't German blondes that snapped at him and criticized him every freaking chance _she _got…

"Make love to me, Riley," the girl suddenly said in a sweet, sing songy kind of voice. She even _sounded_ perfect.

"Okey dokey…" Riley replied smoothly with a wide, goofy grin. It wasn't every day a beautiful blue eyed girl asked him to sleep with her. And he sure as hell wasn't going to miss the opportunity.

He sat up further and was glad to see that he was already mostly undressed. All he had on were his favorite smiley face patterned boxers and his trusty old Converse sneakers. He was on his feet in a second, careful not to disrupt the flowers that seemed to dance in the wind in tune with his own pounding heart beat.

"Oh, Riley," the girl called again in that sensual voice of hers. "You're so smart, and handsome, and brave, and _sexy_…"

Riley beamed at the compliments. Not only was she stunningly good looking, but she knew exactly what he liked to hear.

"Alright, this is it," he muttered to himself. "This is what you wanted. Now don't screw it up like you always do. Don't be a dork either—just be cool. Cool like Ben would be. He got a girlfriend, no problem. Didn't even have to work for it…"

"Come on, Riley!"

"Here I come," Riley called back. He moved to take a step forward just as a song started playing in the distant background. It sounded funny, like the computerized beeping and booping of a generic cell phone tune ringing over and over and over again. Riley would have thought that something more…_romantic_ would be playing.

_Oh, well_, he thought with a shrug as he continued forward. Only he suddenly realized he wasn't going anywhere. He was taking wide steps and practically running but was getting no closer to the girl waiting for him with open arms. The musical ring tone got louder and louder as she drifted further and further away.

"No," Riley cried, reaching his hand out in vain. "No wait! Wait! _Please_ come back! I…I'm all ready to go, see?! I'm not really a dork, I swear!"

But she faded away with a taunting grin and a wave just as Riley heard a booming voice over the now deafening music. The sound of it turned his blood cold.

"Riley!" the shrill voice that he knew all too well yelled. "What do you think you're doing young man?!"

He winced and slowly turned to the voice. There, towering over him was his mother. Only she was at least twenty feet tall and had a familiar looking expression of fury on her face. He cowered in her ominous shadow as she pointed a huge finger accusingly in his direction.

"You are in so much trouble, mister…"

Riley awoke with a gasp just as the giant hand reached down to grab him. He sighed with relief when he found that he was safe in his own bed, twisted up in his own blankets. The blonde had just been a figment of his creative imagination and so, thankfully, had been his larger than life, overbearing mother. But why hadn't the music stopped playing?

Phone! It was coming from Riley's cell phone.

He scrambled out of bed and fell to the floor with a loud thump as he moved to frantically untwine himself from his sheets. It could have been Ben…maybe he had something for Riley to look up or hack into…maybe he was _finally_ going to include him in all the "Page 47" secret presidential crap.

"Hello?" he greeted eagerly once he'd flipped open the phone.

"Riley, sweetheart…how're you doing?"

Riley contemplated hanging up the phone as quickly as he'd picked it up. This was the last person he wanted to hear from, especially after that very bizarre dream. And the chances of her calling him after that… Maybe he was psychic. Or maybe _she _was psychic. He shuddered at the thought.

"What do you want, ma? It's like…" he glanced at his clock, groaning audibly when he found that it was "…six in the morning. I keep telling you—there are such things as _time zones_…"

"Oh, I'm sorry, honey," she said in an unusually pleasant voice. "Paris, you know…I lose track of time."

Then she giggled and it became very clear to Riley that there was someone with her. And there was only one reason he could think of to explain why she would call him while someone else was with her. This someone must have been someone she was trying to impress. And for Riley's mother, there was no better way to impress said someone than with tales of her only son's treasure adventures.

"What do you want?" he asked again, only this time it sounded even more like an annoyed whine than before.

"Just wanted to see how you were doing…it has been almost a month since you've called me."

"Well you're never too eager to talk, unless of course you _want_ something."

"Now, Riley," she said, her tone sharpening slightly. "You know that's not true. You called me last, remember? After that incident in Mt. Rushmore…where you found _another_ treasure."

"Mom, seriously, I don't have time for this…"

"Ooh, why? Are you writing another book?"

Riley snorted. "Oh sure, because you cared _sooo_ much about the first one..."

"What have I told you about being sarcastic, Riley?" she hissed back.

"Ugh…okay, okay…_sorry_," he sighed. "Could you at least tell me who it is you're trying so very hard to impress?"

"That's why I was calling, darling," she said, her sweet voice returning full force. "I'm getting married."

Riley nearly fell out of bed again. "You're _what_?!"

"Getting married…can you hear me okay? Riley? Helllooo…"

"I heard you…it's just…again? You're getting married _again_?"

"That's right. Don't sound so surprised…"

He wasn't that surprised, really. This was probably the longest his mom had been single in almost twenty years. It seemed she'd get married and end up divorced again every few years since Riley was a kid. But this is the first Riley had even heard of a boyfriend from when she moved to France after her last divorce over a year and a half ago.

"Geez," he scoffed. "You've already been married more times than Henry the Eighth."

"Oh, so now you're comparing me to a morbidly obese, pompous _man_?" she quipped back.

Riley groaned. "You know that's not what a meant…"

"I think you'll like this one. He's a good guy, really."

"Yeah, right," Riley muttered. "I don't have to start calling this dude '_dad'_ or anything, do I?"

She sighed. "No, you're an adult. I suppose you can do what you want."

"Good. And do I have to see if he's an asshole before you get hitched, like the last guy? Or the guy before that, or the guy before that, or the guy before—"

"Alright, Riley, that's enough, I get it," she snapped before he could continue down the list. "That is very sweet of you, but I think this is it. We really are in love."

He heard her giggle again on the other end again and he knew his next future step father had put his arm around her or touched her in some…_sensual _way. He shuddered. Even his mother was getting more action than he was.

"The wedding's in two months. It would mean a lot to me if you actually showed up for this one."

"Yeah, fine," he said quickly so she wouldn't yell at him again for missing the last few ceremonies. "Whatever. I'll be there, mom."

"Thank you, sweetheart," she said genuinely. "Save the date—August 16st. I promise you'll be the first to get an invitation."

"Sure thing," he muttered monotonically. "You know I'd love to keep this little chat going, but…"

"I understand…you're busy finding treasures and saving the world and all that jazz," she said cheerfully. "Just…try not to be such a stranger all the time, okay?"

"Okay. I won't."

"It's not _that_ painful to just talk to me every once in a while, is it?"

He sighed heavily. "No, I guess it's not."

"I love you, Riley."

"Love you too, mom," he mumbled. "Bye."

"Bye-bye, Riley."

"…_Bye_."

"Au revoir!"

"Ma, hang up the damn phone."

"Oh, you're no fun," she pouted. "See you around, kiddo."

He waited until she hung up on her end before snapping his own phone shut with a shake of his head. He had nothing better to do, really—he just hated talking to his mother over the phone. Their long distance conversations were notorious for ending on a bad note, which was probably why they didn't talk as much as they used to. Most of the time he was glad she was on the other side of the Atlantic, but other times, like right now, he kind of missed having her around all the time. And he couldn't help but worry about her taste in men. Hopefully this one would actually work out and she would be happy for once. But he'd hoped that many times before and nothing had gone right for her as a result. He seriously doubted that this marriage last any longer than the others.

With a sigh, Riley pushed himself up off his bed. He stretched and glanced around his tiny apartment where sunlight was just starting to stream though the cracks under the heavily curtained windows. He stared into space for a long time, trying to remember the better portion of his vivid dream. But it was already gone—all he could think about was his mother and her newest fiancé. He shook the thought from his head and sighed again, figuring he might as well start his day, since he was, regrettably, already wide awake.

* * *

_Oh, and by the by, I'm finally putting some of my stuff over on deviantArt. If anyone's interested in seeing what I really like doing with my time, check back at my profile for the link :)_


	2. and I'm broken

**Chapter II: and I'm broken**

Barely two whole months had passed since the discovery of Cibola and already Riley was falling into his usual boring routine again. His book had gone up in sales very briefly after his last adventure, but no one really seemed that interested in it. And when he'd contacted the publishers to see if they wanted another novel by Riley Poole, they pointedly told him "no."

Besides being shut down by his publisher, Riley was disheartened to find that Ben was being just as distant as the treasure and book fans were. In fact Riley had barely even heard from his friend since Cibola—Ben was back together with Abigail and the two were…"catching up" as Ben had so eloquently put it. Riley left it at that, shuddering just as he had at the thought of his mother being intimate with someone, all the while wondering why he wasn't as successful in the dating world.

He reasoned that he _technically_ shouldn't be single, at least not with the car he was driving. A bright cherry red Ferrari Spider that any girl would be attracted to and, therefore, they would also be naturally attracted to the driver. But luck unfortunately was not on Riley's side, as the second he'd gotten his car back from impound he'd had the misfortune of backing into an unsuspecting parked vehicle. The damage hadn't been bad, but the owner of the other car was extremely pissed. Any money Riley had earned from his few book sales and subsequent treasure hunts was spent on the other guy's car, leaving him with nothing to spend on his own car, which was currently residing in a dingy auto shop with nothing more than a dented bumper waiting for him to pay the bill and take it back.

So, without a book to write, without any news from Ben about any other treasure adventures, and most importantly with his precious car in the shop, Riley was left alone and very bored. In fact his mother's call was most likely the most exciting event of the day. He would get his coffee, read his newspaper, maybe play some computer games, watch something on the TV, eat food, watch some more TV, and play on the computer again until he would finally exhaust himself out of boredom and go to bed. He had a heck of a lot to look forward to.

But first he needed to make a wardrobe decision. June was in full swing and it was getting very warm outside, but still Riley opted for baggy blue jeans to hide his scrawny legs. Looking at himself in the mirror, the young man was disheartened to see that everything was scrawny. He would dismiss it, telling himself that girls dug the skinny look, but he knew he was just kidding himself. Pretty girls liked the muscular guys. That's just the way it was—survival of the fittest even in the dating world.

With a sigh Riley pulled a dark long sleeve shirt over his head and pulled a semi fashionable button up T shirt over that. He figured that logically the more layers he wore, the bulkier and more buff he would look. He slipped on his Cons and headed out of the apartment without even bothering to shave. He was hoping to get a little goatee thing again, but after three days all that had grown was a little stubble around his chin and jaw line. Riley was sure that tough guys could grow that much over night.

He yanked his front door shut and nearly stumbled down the few stairs that were there. His paper was sitting on the bottom step waiting for him but he left it there as per his usual routine. Get coffee, come back, read paper. He looked up absentmindedly and saw the bright blue, cloudless sky and was reminded of his dream. He stood there, staring at nothing for a while with a widening grin on his face. Maybe today wasn't going to be so bad after all. Maybe it was actually going to be a good day for once. A _very_ good day.

There was almost a skip to his step as he walked down the sidewalk. Three blocks down and one block over he went until he was outside of his favorite coffee shop. It was a quiet little privately owned place that functioned just fine regardless of the fact that it was not one of many corporate, mass chained producing coffeehouses.

The door jingled cheerfully when Riley opened it and strolled inside. As usual, he was the only customer there. He went to the counter and drummed his fingers on the surface while he waited for a certain someone to come out of the back room. There was a girl who happened to work in the shop that Riley had taken a liking to. The tag pinned to her apron said her name was Adrianna…Adrianna, the petite, probably college aged girl who smiled warmly whenever she saw Riley coming and who knew the young man's coffee order by heart. Sure the two had never had a _real_ conversation before—or any conversation for that matter. Mostly they would just comment on the weather or something and be on their way. Not today, though—today was an especially _good_ day. Riley was going to talk to her, and maybe even ask her out.

"H-hey Adrianna," he would say, smiling nervously at her.

And she would smile back with a "hey, hon. The usual?"

"You know it."

She would turn to prepare his drink, commenting on "what a lovely day it is outside."

"It sure is." Riley would watch her for a moment while she worked, before finally gathering the courage to say, "hey Adrianna?"

"Yeah, hon?"

"I was thinking…maybe I could take you out sometime," he would say smoothly. "Dinner, movie, whatever. Whaddya say?"

She would turn to him with an even wider smile, her eyes glistening with emotion as she cries joyfully, "oh Riley Poole, I thought you'd never ask!" Then she would leap over the counter to kiss him and he would kiss her right back. And it would feel so right, so perfect, that she would toss her apron to the side and he would scoop her up in his arms to carry her out of that tiny coffee shop so they could spend the rest of their long lives together in ecstasy.

"Yeah," Riley muttered to himself while he smiled and stared absentmindedly into space. "Happily ever after…"

He was waiting there daydreaming for a good five minutes or so before someone finally came out to serve him. But Riley's hopeful smile fell and his dreams were shattered when he saw it was. It wasn't Adrianna, it was that other girl. The girl that was a lot taller and bigger than Riley and always seemed to have a scowl on her face. The kind of girl that he imagined could very easily beat the snot out of him.

He ordered and she practically threw the cup of steaming liquid at him. While he was paying he dared to ask, "so…uh, Adrianna's not working today?"

"Who?" the girl spat, as she obviously did not want to engage in a conversation with Riley.

"You know…Adrianna…the cute little red head you work with?"

"Oh, her. She quit."

Riley almost dropped his drink. "She _what_?"

"Quit," she growled. "Place is going under so she got a new job."

"You…you guys are…"

To answer his question the girl jerked her thumb at a sign behind the counter before disappearing into the back room again. Riley read it with a gasp.

"You're closing?!" he gasped. "And it's gonna be a…another Starbucks?!"

He looked up and noticed for the first time that he was talking to himself. He clenched the cup in his fist and turned on his heel to leave. Okay, so maybe this wasn't going to be such a great day after all. He'd missed out on a potential girlfriend _and_ his favorite coffee was going to be just another bland corporate blend.

The spring was long gone from Riley's step as he stomped back down the street to his apartment. Usually on a nice day like this he would sit outside on his step to read the newspaper. Not today though. Today he snatched the paper up in his fist and went straight to his door. He was going inside and he was going to stay inside for the rest of the day. Maybe he'd just stay there forever. All he needed was his computer. His ever loyal mass of machinery. He'd become a happy hermit and would have all of the necessities delivered to him.

Except for one small problem—he couldn't get the door open. He held the coffee and paper in one arm while his other turned and pushed frantically on the door handle. He normally didn't bother to lock it because he was always back ten minutes later. But today it was locked, and, as usual, Riley had left his keys inside. He yanked harder on the door, dropping his coffee on the step as he did so.

"Damn it," he yelled. He kicked at the door once for good measure before finally slumping down on his front step, defeated. This wasn't the first time Riley had accidentally locked himself out of his apartment, but it seemed a lot worse today, what with his favorite source of morning sustenance gone. And his latest chance at having a girlfriend gone. And his mom was getting married again… He groaned. Things were not looking up for Riley Poole on this very beautiful day.

A couple passing by walking hand in hand on the sidewalk were staring at him. An old guy sitting across the street apparently had nothing better to look at. A slender young woman jogged past with a dog almost as big as she was but Riley didn't even give her attractive figure a second glance like he normally would. Instead he stared at the ground with his head in his hands wallowing in his own self pity and hoping to God that that damn dog and all its fur didn't come any closer to him.

He sat there for a few minutes, ignoring the stares of the people passing in the street. He didn't even bother with the newspaper—it was already drenched in coffee and completely unreadable anyway. He finally pushed himself to his feet and took a deep breath as he readied himself mentally for a life of solitude. But first things first. He was going to have to get a new key to his place from his angry landlord. He didn't want to have to hear the overweight, disgusting man yell at him _again_, but he didn't really have much of a choice. And once he was inside in apartment, he would never leave his bedroom again.

Riley had taken only two steps when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Are you Mr. Riley Poole?" a gruff and strangely accented voice asked.

Riley looked up at the very unfamiliar, and very large man who had yet to take his massive hand off of him. "Uh, yeah…"

Before Riley could even respond, he was hauled bodily off the sidewalk by the man and into a dark van that he hadn't even seen pull up. The vehicle was away as quickly as it had come, and for all of the stares Riley had received before, no one seemed to notice what had just happened, or if they did they obviously didn't care.

* * *

_As a side note, for the longest time, even in my other stories, I was calling Riley's car a Porsche for some reason. I guess it's just cause I don't know diddly squat about cars :)_


	3. let's fix

**Chapter III: let's fix**

The second Riley had been forced into the van a dark sack was pulled over his head so he couldn't see a damn thing. But he could tell there were at least two people with him now, one on either side of him each with a tight grip on Riley's upper arm. And if the size of their fist was any indication, Riley could easily say that these guys were huge.

The vehicle screeched to a stop and he was hustled out of that van and into another. Had Riley not been so confused and frightened, he may have considered running away or he would have at least tried to struggle, yell, fight back…something. Instead he let himself be herded around like what he would say was a big stupid wimpy excuse for a human being.

In the second van he was shoved down onto a seat and held there by hands that were now pressing down hard on his shoulders. The sack was pulled away and suddenly all Riley could see was a blinding bright light that he quickly flinched away from. When he blinked the surprise away he squinted to try to see his surroundings, but it was hard to make anything out in the darkness. He could just see through his squinting the outline of a man leering down at him from behind the light source. It was like he was in a scary interrogation room, only this particular interrogation room was really inside of a moving van.

"Hey, what the hell is going on?" Riley said when the man standing before him remained silent for a long, tense moment.

His question was answered by a hand that came seemingly out of nowhere to smack him across the face.

"Ah, God," Riley hissed as he flinched back from the sharp slap. "What was that for?"

"You are the one known as Riley Poole?"

Riley jumped slightly at the booming, gruff voice.

"You are Riley Poole, yes or no?!"

Though it was still yelling at him, Riley could just discern a strange accent to the voice. It was a heavy accent, maybe from some kind of Eastern European country, but he couldn't be sure in his current state. When he didn't answer the interrogator right away, he was slapped again.

"Ow! Damn it…"

"Is your name Riley Poole?!?!"

"Yeah, yeah," Riley answered quickly. "I'm Riley Poole. What do you want my autograph or something? Cause there are much easier and less…_painful_ ways to get one, you know…"

Another slap to his already stinging cheek.

"Ahh, quit it already!" Riley yelled.

"Your name, Riley Poole, is an anagram for Reiy Polloe?" the voice yelled.

"What?!" Riley cried. It took him a second before the strange question registered in his brain. "My name…well, I dunno…how do you spell it?"

Surprisingly, he wasn't slapped that time.

"R-E-I-Y P-O-L-L-O-E," the voice answered monotonically.

Riley thought hard for a second. "Umm…yeah, sure. If you flip the letters around a little it's my name…"

That time he was slapped.

"Ow, what the hell?!" Riley cried out in frustration. "I just answered your _freaking_ question!"

"Is Reiy Polloe a code name for Riley Poole?"

"For…for me?" Riley was very confused now. "Ah…no. I mean, I didn't make it up. Maybe you're looking for another Riley Poole? See, I'm the famous one. I'm the treasure hunter who—"

The man in the dark was quick to cut him off. "You are the assistant to treasure hunter and American historian Benjamin Franklin Gates, who is credited with finding both the Knights of the Templar treasure and Cibola, the lost city of gold. You wrote a book after the former discovery, which has sold less than two hundred copies worldwide since it was published three months ago."

Riley felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment. "Well…I'm just…underappreciated, that's all…"

"You are also a very skilled computer technician, who has hacked into many systems that were believed to be unhackable."

"_That's_ what this is about? Listen—I'm buddies with the President…you know, the president of the _United States of America_. I'm sure he could clear all this up, no problem…"

The voice ignored him and continued. "You sometimes operate under the alias 'Rei Polloe' while working for a highly classified government agency created to spy on terrorist organizations and dangerous international criminals like me and my associates."

Riley blinked up at the man's dark silhouette. "Um…I do?"

"You have recently hacked into our system and encrypted a number of very important files. You tell us what you've found and I can assure you your death will be quick and painless—for the most part."

"What?!" Riley shrieked, as his initial confusion quickly turned to panic. "But…but I didn't do any of that secret…whatever stuff! I swear to God I have no idea what you're talking about…this is all just a…a _huge_ misunderstanding, so if you could just swing back to my place and drop me off, I think we can both just forget this whole thing ever happened…."

The voice actually laughed, though the sound of it made Riley's skin crawl. "So you have chosen the hard way. I will extract the information from you, one way or another, you will see—or not, depending on if I decide to take your eyes as a trophy before I finally kill you."

Riley paled considerably. Not his big blues! "That's just…sick, man, really…"

The owner of the voice leaned down closer to him, all the while managing to keep his face hidden in shadow. "I suggest you start talking."

"B-but…I'm not…you've got the wrong guy, really!"

He struggled to get up off his seat but the silent grips on his shoulders tightened as he distinctly heard the man in front of him cracking his knuckles.

"Ahh, wait…wait!" Riley yelled. "Please…I have no idea what you're talking about, I swear!"

The man let out a chilling laugh. "Let me refresh your memory for you. In five minutes time you will be begging me to let you talk."

"Oh, God," Riley whimpered, feeling very helpless. "Why me…"

He flinched and squeezed his eyes shut as the shadowed figure pulled back his massive fist. A deafening bang followed that sent Riley toppling sideways out of the grips on his shoulders and out of his seat completely, though he had felt nothing strike his face. When he opened his eyes he saw that he wasn't the only one who'd tipped over. The three men that were with him in the van had all lost their footing with surprised yells and were sliding to the left as the van teetered precariously for a moment on two wheels before falling completely to its side.

Riley couldn't even yell as his entire world was suddenly spun around. He was thrown bodily against the van's interior while the vehicle rolled downward, tossing its passengers around violently as it fell. He imagined it felt like being a pin ball as he was bounced back and forth between walls of the van and knocked against the heavy metal furniture and the bodies of the scary men who had been threatening to kill him just moments before.

Riley feared for a fleeting moment that he would vomit all over himself when suddenly he heard a crunch and everything was still. He was slammed one last time against what was now the floor, but had once been the dark van's ceiling. The wind was knocked out of him, but after taking a few deep, calming breaths, Riley managed to force himself up onto his shaky legs. He did a quick physical check and concluded that he was fine, save for some bruises he no doubt sustained in the jolting crash. That and his nerves were terribly rattled.

The lamp had exploded with the impact but light was still pouring into the broken space. The back door of the van was popped open, bathing the small, dark space in morning light. Riley scrambled over the upturned chair and through the opening just as he heard groaning coming from the bodies lying behind him. His captors were recovering from the crash and would no doubt soon be coming after him again. And while Riley still had no idea what the scary foreign guy had been talking about, he definitely didn't want to stick around and see if the man followed through with his threats.

"Whoa," Riley gasped in awe as he stumbled out of the massive wreckage and took a look around. It was probably a miracle he and any of the other guys in the van were even alive. To Riley's left was a steep, grassy hill. At the top some thirty or forty feet up was the road with its guard rail broken and twisted from where the van had apparently plowed sideways through it. The right side of the overturned black van was even indented strangely. Further examination of the impression's shape led Riley to believe that a smaller vehicle had driven head first into the van in order to force it off the road. He couldn't even imagine the damage the other car must have sustained—the little car that had ultimately saved his life.

But Riley didn't have even a second to thank whatever higher power had attributed to his survival. A broad shouldered bald and furious looking man was emerging from the back of the van. Riley took one quick glimpse of the man before he took off sprinting in the opposite direction. He zigged through the clump of trees that had stopped the van's decent and zagged down the rest of the hill to another road where cars were already stopping to gawk at the bizarre, smoking accident. He ignored them all and kept running, pushing his aching body to its physical limits.

"Gotta…keep…booking it," Riley gasped under his breath. He needed to motivate himself to keep going or he was going to collapse right then and there in the middle of the street. "Weird guys…gonna kill me… Gotta run…gotta…hide…"

He ran to an intersection and turned right in the hopes of losing the people that might not even be still chasing him in the first place. Riley's biggest mistake was that he failed to look both ways before crossing the next street.

An oncoming little red sports car screeched to a stop directly in his path. But Riley couldn't skid to a halt quick enough and he soon found himself splattered face first against the small car's driver's side window.

"Ow," he groaned with his cheek stuck against the smooth glass. He forced his eyes open and was surprised to see a very bewildered looking young woman staring back at him from the other side of the window. The first thing he noticed was how strikingly beautiful she was, though she was the opposite of his dream girl in every way, what with her dark hair and even darker eyes. But she took his breath away just the same, even when he noticed a second thing—how absolutely ridiculous he must have looked with his face pressed against her window.

"Ah, geez," he mumbled as he unstuck his cheek from the glass and winced at the imprint he'd left on it. "Sorry…I didn't mean to run into your car or anything…I'll just…go…"

He took a sudden step back while he apologized, expecting her to look like he was a crazy person and drive off. That's what most women did when they met him anyway, even if he wasn't plastering his face to their car windows in the middle of the street. But she didn't look angrily at him—she didn't even stare at him like he was a disgusting parasite of some sort. She just kept a grim, straight to business expression as she rolled down her window with the click of a button and called out to him:

"Riley Poole, you need to come with me. _Now_."

* * *

_Holy crap it's snowing outside… :)_

_I know I don't usually badger you guys for reviews or whatever, but now that this story is really going somewhere I'd like to hear everyone's opinions of it. To my regular reviewers thus far—you guys are awesome :) I feel bad that I like never respond, so thanks **LoremIpsum** (my almost neighbor and most valued reviewer—your words are always very helpful), **Miss Fenway** (your enthusiasm is always much appreciated), **smileyalli** (that won't be the first of the cliffhangers, trust me), **LazyChestnut** (ha, there's no better compliment than marriage proposal, I suppose), **broadwaylover07** (I forgive you, and you've totally called Riley's worsening day), **Jedi'Pirate Jaeh** (I used to drink a shit load of coffee just to function, but now I'm like "ew coffee's gross," and I actually had to look up IMHO because I am internet acronym retarded apparently), and **master of time** (well hello to you, too)._

_Oh and happy Halloween, kids :) I'll be the wasted Jaina Solo with a plastic purple lightsaber wishing I was still a child (again)._


	4. when I'm swollen

_Okay, I would say I was sorry for the lack of updates here but it really couldn't be helped. For those of you that didn't happen to notice (thank you master of time for actually noticing and thank you LoremIpsum for letting me vent) my very first story ever, "National Treasure: A Different Kind of Adventure," was forcibly removed from the site, because apparently those kinds of choose-your-own-adventure interactive stories aren't legal. I was blocked from posting by the fan fiction authorities for the vast majority of last week, and oh what a crappy week it was. And they changed like everything on this site. Not drastically but it's still annoying. AND Michael Crichton, my most favoritest author ever, died last week—I may never read again _:(

_Ahem. Now, for the handful of you that actually still read and enjoy my stuff, on with "Boom", though honestly my enthusiasm for it was murdered along with my other story._

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* * *

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Chapter IV: when I'm swollen

Now Riley was giving her the scared-of-a-crazy-person look. He'd never seen this beautiful woman before in his life, but she seemed to know exactly who he was as she demanded he get in the car with her. "How did…who are…what?"

"Just get in the damn car!"

Her snapping at him brought Riley instantaneously to his senses. "Yes, ma'am," he muttered.

He was quick to trot around the front of the car, hesitating only when he noticed how banged up the front hood was and the precariously hanging bumper. In fact, the car looked like it would fit perfectly into the indentation Riley had seen on the side of the black van. He climbed into the passenger seat and she took off before he could even get his seat belt on.

"You…you hit that van I was in?" he said, still panting from the exertion he had put forth in running away.

She nodded but kept her eyes to the road. "Yes, it was the only way I could stop them from taking you."

Riley was grateful, he really was, but at the moment he was a little too frightened and adrenaline rushed to thank her properly. "Well…geez! That was just…that was freaking crazy! I could have been killed…_you _could have been killed!"

"It was necessary," she said just as monotonically as Riley's interrogator had while she weaved in and out of traffic at high speeds with ease.

Riley stared at her, studying her intently while she drove. Her dark hair was pulled loosely back at the base of her neck and folded up in a barrette while strands hung down and framed the sides of her smooth, pale face. She was dressed in a tight navy blue pencil skirt with a matching jacket over a loosely buttoned white blouse and high heeled shoes. Riley thought she looked like some kind of a slick business woman heading for an important meeting, which seemed strange to him, especially in their current situation. His eyes traced her silhouette, from the tip of her straight nose down to her bare, long legs. He cleared his throat. "Are you a terminator?"

She blinked in surprise at the question and actually laughed at him while she said, "did you just ask me if I was a _terminator_? What, like Arnold Schwarzenegger?"

"Uh, n-no I didn't…nothing…never mind," he stammered.

"You're not hurt are you?" She shot him a quick, concerned glance before turning back to the road. "Did you hit your head in the crash?"

"Uh, no, I think I'm okay…"

A relieved look crossed her face. "Oh thank God. Were the other guys hurt? Anybody dead?"

"What?" Riley sputtered, while his mind still tried, and failed, to process the situation he was in. "I mean…no I don't think so…"

"Damn," she muttered. "I was hoping that would at least slow the rest of them down a little. They'll be coming after us again soon."

"What?! Who will?" Riley said, his voice rising in baffled frustration. "Who the hell are those guys anyway? And who are _you_?"

She kept her pointy shoed foot on the gas, even as the car was making angry noises from inside the crushed hood. She remained in thoughtful silence for a moment before answering Riley's question with a question of her own. "Well, how much did they tell you?"

"Abso-freaking-lutely nothing," he groaned. "They just kept asking me dumb questions and bitch slapping me, even when I did answer them. It was totally unfair."

"What kind of questions did they ask?"

"Like that _really _matters," he muttered sarcastically. "Did I mention that I was bitch slapped?"

"Humor me."

He sighed in frustration, wondering how she could be so calm while she drove through the city streets like a maniac. "They just thought I was someone else," he finally said. "Someone named Reiy Polloe, which, coincidentally, is an anagram for Riley Poole."

He expected her to look confused, or maybe become angry if she didn't believe his ridiculous story. He certainly wasn't expecting her to laugh at him again.

"It-it's not funny," he whined. "My face really hurts…"

"I'm sorry," she chuckled. "It's just…_my_ name is Reiy Polloe. Or at least my code name is."

"So…so they were really after you, not me?"

"Yes. I've been tracking them for a while now. I figured they would catch up to me eventually." Her expression turned grim again. "They must have found out the name I've been using was an anagram. You were just really unlucky that they thought I was you."

Even after things were explained to him, Riley was still very confused. "Wait…so your real name is Riley Poole, too?"

She laughed again and he felt his face burn with embarrassment. It was a pleasant sounding, soft kind of giggle, but still—he didn't like being laughed at.

"No, no…I'm sorry, Riley, but this really has been just a huge misunderstanding. You see my name for the O.S.I. is Polly Eeori. Which happens to be another anagram for Reiy Polloe."

"Oh, okay," Riley said simply, even while the expression on his face revealed that he was still very befuddled. "Wait…O.S…what now?"

"O.S.I. The Office of Secret Intelligence."

Now it was Riley's turn to laugh. "Oh, _really_," he said skeptically. "I've never heard of it."

"It's a very special, very covert branch of the FBI."

"Oh yeah, _sure _it is," Riley said slowly as if he was finally getting what was really going on. "Wait—so what you're saying is that these crazy bad guys think I'm you just because our names have the same letters in them? This is absolutely retarded."

"No, Riley, it's—"

"Did Ben put you up to this? I'll bet he did." Riley laughed harder. "I always told him he'd never get me with a practical joke. If this is his joke I gotta admit it's pretty darn good."

"Riley, this isn't a joke, really," Polly insisted, obviously a little disconcerted by Riley's sudden bout of maniacal insanity.

"Did you hear that, Benjamin Franklin Gates?" Riley yelled suddenly out of his window with a crazed laugh. "I said you got me! Good one man! You win, alright? I _concede_!"

"Riley!" Polly screamed.

"What?!" he shrieked back.

"HOLD ON!"

She turned the wheel sharply to avoid colliding head on with an oncoming blue minivan with a pair of very angry, very broad shouldered looking men sitting in the front seats.

"It's them," Polly yelled.

"Are you sure?!"

"Definitely." She suddenly turned up a highway's on ramp, wheels squealing while passing drivers honked their horns angrily at her. But she didn't stop, didn't even slow down, even as a line of morning traffic appeared in front of her on the freeway.

Riley was jerked sideways in his seat, held in place only by the tightening seatbelt strap that crossed his chest. He watched through the rearview mirror as the blue minivan made a dangerous u-turn in the middle of the street to come after them again. Then he heard squealing breaks coming from in front of them and finally turned to see where they were headed.

"Oh my God," he gasped when Polly suddenly cut across two lanes of heavy traffic, weaving carefully in and out of cars as she did so. He shrieked at her in a very unmasculine way. "This is crazy! You're crazy! You're gonna get us _killed_!"

"I'm trying to save our lives here believe it or not," she yelled back at him over the blaring of a horn that came from a car she narrowly cut off. "And your _screaming _at me is really distracting…"

"Truck, Truck, TRUCK!" Riley shouted pointing passed her at the eighteen wheeler that was standing between them and the fast lane.

But she didn't stop her progress as she turned the wheel sharply, ducking instinctively as the underside of the tractor trailer scraped loudly against the roof of her thankfully petite car. An SUV driving on the other side of the truck was forced to slam on its brakes as the tiny red and very beat up automobile suddenly emerged from under the truck. As soon as she was in the slow, traffic ridden fast lane, Polly forced the car over a bump strip and onto the highway's narrow shoulder. She picked up speed immediately, racing between the line of stopped cars and a strip of grassy barrier that separated the two directions of the freeway.

"YES!" she shouted triumphantly. "See that, Riley…you're worrying over nothing."

Riley merely moaned in response as his heart continued to race and he gasped for breath. He'd been in car chases before, but this was just insane.

"I'm going to get you back to your place, and hopefully they'll forget about you and we never have to go through anything like this again. Okay?"

But Riley wasn't even listening to her anymore as he stared with bulging eyes through his side view mirror. The sounds of blaring horns and crashing cars echoed from behind them as the blue minivan suddenly slammed into the SUV that had let Polly pass just seconds before. The SUV rolled over into the grassy dip and exploded in a giant fire ball, giving the blue minivan more than enough room to drive off the highway and onto the shoulder after Polly's car. It raced after them, picking up speed at an alarming rate, leaving the carnage and flames of the multi car accident it had caused behind it. The warning "objects in mirror are closer than they appear" taunted Riley as the van grew larger and larger in the mirror's reflection.

"Oh shit," Polly muttered, watching along with Riley through her own rearview mirror. "I didn't think they'd catch up to us so quickly. We'd better pick up the pace."

"H-hang on," Riley gasped. "You're still taking me home first, right?"

She didn't respond, or if she did Riley couldn't hear her over her car's squealing tires. She pulled the wheel sharply again to cross the grassy median, even as her pummeled vehicle was groaning at her even louder than Riley was. Smoke was starting to pour out from under the hood, obstructing Polly's vision as the car bounced through the dip and emerged on the opposite side of the freeway. Thankfully, there was little traffic going in this direction, and Polly was able to quickly cross four lanes and race down the nearest exit ramp.

Riley had no idea where they were, but he could easily assume it was a very unpleasant part of town, based solely on the large, decrepit, graffiti ridden buildings that lined the streets. They looked like old factories and workhouses, and Riley would be very surprised if anyone was working in them anymore. Thankfully for Polly, there were practically no other cars on the road and she raced forward with ease, ignoring stop signs and disobeying any and all traffic laws. But it didn't matter—the only people around were a few battered looking homeless people pushing around carts filled with garbage. Them, and the minivan that had somehow managed to follow them off the highway and through the dingy streets.

"Crap, they're still following us," Riley yelled. "They're catching up! Go faster! Must go faster!"

"I can't," she yelled back. "The damn car's dying. I'll have to lose them."

"Must go faster!"

She ignored him and focused on her driving as she banked the car to the left, then to the right, then to the left again through back roads and around the looming old buildings. Their attackers followed her every move, and while the hulking minivan could not make the turns as cleanly as Polly's little car did, it was very quick to recover and catch up to her again.

"Damn it," she muttered. "Can't shake 'em."

Riley couldn't even say anything anymore. He was tense in his seat, bracing his arms against the door and dashboard and holding on for dear life as each turn Polly made threatened to jolt him right out of his seat.

"That's it," she muttered. "Try and follow me now, you bastards."

Riley glanced at her and her determined expression before following her gaze forward, straight into two buildings' walls. There, in between them, was a teensy tiny alleyway that, from where Riley was sitting, didn't look even wide enough to walk through.

"Oh my God," he moaned. "You're gonna kill us."

Polly ignored him and pressed down as hard as she could on the gas, forcing the car towards thin alleyway at high speeds. Riley yelled and covered his face in his hands as the narrow opening came closer and closer…

He heard the impact and felt a slight jolt, but the car miraculously kept moving forward. It hadn't crashed into the wall, and Riley hadn't gone flying through the windshield as a result. He tentatively lowered his hands from his face and saw sparks flying next to him as the sides of the car scraped against brick walls. He glanced at Polly, but she didn't seem to care about the new damage, as her car was already broken beyond repair anyway. And while her vehicle had just fit into the impossibly long alley's tiny opening, there was no physical way the blue van could follow them into the tight space. Riley turned around in his seat to watch the minivan come to an abrupt stop and get smaller and smaller as Polly raced further and further away.

The fear and frustration melted away, and Riley pointed and laughed at their would-be chasers while Polly grinned triumphantly and said, "hasta la vista, baby…"

* * *

_By the by, I can't even lay claim to the organization known as the Office of Secret Intelligence. That is a reference from "The Venture Bros.," a great cartoon on the Adult Swim. And when I refer to terminators, I mean the three (soon to be four) movies—not that piece of crap TV show._


	5. let's kiss

**Chapter V: let's kiss**

Their vehicle was making very angry noises by now, from both the crushed hood and the sides that had scraped hard against the brick alleyway walls. Soon the little red sports car emerged from the tight space and into another street, one that was thankfully deserted. It would take the minivan a while to maneuver around the buildings and figure out where that particular alley had ended, which gave them a little time at least to get as far away as possible. Polly forced the groaning, steaming car around corner after corner, until something in the engine started sputtering and shaking violently.

"We'll have to ditch the car and continue on foot."

"_Continue_?" Riley whined. "Continue where? I don't even know where we are _now_…"

"We're in the old manufacturing district," she said matter-of-factly. "Pretty far out of the city, actually."

"That's just great," he grumbled. "I can't even walk home from here, can I?"

"I wouldn't recommend it."

She came to a dead end and slowed her dying vehicle to a stop. A flimsy wood fence was all that separated the edge of the pavement from long a gravely slope.

"Okay, Riley, get out of the car."

"What? Why?"

"Because we're going to ditch the car down that hill, and I don't think you want to still be in it when it crashes."

"Oh, yeah," he mumbled as he scrambled to unbuckle his seatbelt. "Like I haven't been in enough car crashes for one day." He got out of the car and stood on slightly shaking legs, sighing at how good it felt to be able to finally stand on solid ground again.

Polly left the car running, put it in neutral, and emerged from her own seat without even bothering to close the door behind her. She strolled to the back of the car and met Riley by the trunk. She placed the palms of both her hands against the car's backside and leaned down.

"Alright," she was saying. "We've just got to push it a foot or two until it gets rolling. Then we'll hide out in one of the old factories. Got it? …Riley? … …Riley, I'd appreciate a little help here…"

But Riley was too busy gawking at her to hear what she was saying. He hadn't seen her outside of the car yet, and when she came to stand in front of him his jaw literally dropped. Standing up straight she was at least six feet tall in her heels and Riley had to crane his neck just to see her face. But presently he wasn't interested in looking at her face. His eyes were locked onto her legs…her long, pale, muscular—but not grossly so—legs. She was tall, because she was _all_ legs. And the way she was standing now, leaning over the car, Riley couldn't help but let his eyes wander upwards passed her curvy hips, her thin waist, her perfectly arched back, her perky—

"Riley!" she snapped at him.

"What? Oh, sorry," he mumbled, blushing when he realized he'd been staring inappropriately at her. He raised his blue eyes to meet her dark brown ones, surprised to see a light blush rising in her cheeks as well. She quickly cleared her throat and turned away from him to the task at hand.

"Just help me push the damn car."

"'Kay."

He stood next to her and pushed, and together their combined effort rolled the car forward through the rotted fence until it picked up speed down the gravely hill. They stepped back and watched for a second as the battered red vehicle bounced away, loosing pieces with every tree or rock that it came in contact with. Riley heard Polly sigh mournfully and was reminded him of his own little red sports car and how much he missed driving it. He opened his mouth to say something comforting, to try to console her a little, but she was quick to recover on her own.

"Alright," Polly said, her expression going from forlorn back to serious in the blink of an eye. "Let's get out of here."

She turned on her heel and headed down the road, leading Riley through a maze of streets and alleyways without a word. They could just hear in the distance a screeching of tires on a quickly moving vehicle. The van was still looking for them, and without a car of their own to escape in, they were sitting ducks.

Polly stopped in one particularly shadowed alley and peeked around the corner towards the main street they'd driven down before. Riley had finally taken a second to catch his breath, and now, looking around, he realized he definitely had no idea where they were. With all the empty old warehouses, the empty pot holed streets, and the sounds of the coming minivan, Riley couldn't help but feel very disconcerted about their current situation.

Polly crouched down with her back pressed against the wall and shrugged off her jacket. There, holstered under her arm, was a gun. She pulled it out, cocked it, and examined the sleek black shell carefully. Riley, from where he was still standing, had a nice downwards view of her cleavage. He shifted nervously, knowing that he shouldn't keep staring at her like he was, but finding that he just couldn't help it.

"New plan, Riley," Polly was saying. He watched her with wide eyes as she suddenly tore through the material in her tight skirt to make a slit that ran all the way up her bare thigh. There, strapped to her leg, was another, smaller pistol. "Do you know how to use one of these?"

Riley swallowed hard, forcing himself to look away from her newly exposed skin and to the weapon in her hand. He stared at the device like he'd never even seen a gun before. Sure he'd had plenty pointed at him in his time, but he had never actually held one. And now that she was offering it to him, he wasn't sure if he was excited or terrified.

"Oh yeah," he said, shrugging off his indecisiveness. "You can totally count on me."

He grabbed it awkwardly and had to fumble for a second to figure out where to put his fingers. He'd played countless video games that involved shooting things or other people, so how hard could it be in real life? Point it at what needs to die, pull the trigger, then BAM! No further instruction needed.

Once he finally got the weapon comfortably in his hands, Riley was surprised by how good and how…_powerful_ it made him feel. He grinned stupidly and squatted down next to Polly in a classic gun fighter stance. He hoped she would see how absolutely cool he looked.

She didn't.

"They must have discovered the car by now," she muttered, her watchful gaze staring down the street from where they were hiding. "They'll be splitting up—the van will set the search perimeter while the others come after us on foot. Riley…do you know how many guys were in the van?"

"Umm…I'm pretty sure there were three. And then a guy driving."

She nodded in response. "If we can at least stop the van, it'll give us a better chance of getting you out of here before they can get any more reinforcements."

Riley, meanwhile, was busy trying out different stances with the gun—one knee down with the pistol raised near his head, or crouched with the pistol low to protect his crotch, and then with one hand or two…

A loud screeching disrupted the calm silence as the blue minivan came barreling around the corner a few blocks away. The sound caused Riley to jump in surprise and he almost lost his grip on the gun.

"This is it," Polly muttered as she lined up her shot, still hidden from the van's view around the corner. "Aim for the driver."

Riley swallowed hard and nodded. He moved to aim his own gun just like she was, only his hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Just wait," she said between deep, calming breaths. "Wait till they get…a _little_ closer…closer… … _closer_…"

The bang of a prematurely discharged weapon echoed through the street as the bullet from said discharge lodged itself uselessly into the asphalt. Riley fell back with a surprised gasp—he hadn't been expecting the recoil from the shot and his hand instinctively dropped the weapon as it jerked back in his hand.

Polly spun in surprise and sent Riley a fierce glare before leaping to her feet. She stepped quickly around the corner, no longer caring if she gave away their position or not. Riley had already successfully done that for her. She released three bullets and ducked back. Her aim was good, but the distance was off. One shot blasted uselessly through the passenger's side mirror, another shattered one of the van's head lights, and finally the third hit it's mark in the windshield.

The bullet didn't strike the driver, but the spider webbing cracking in the glass did disrupt his vision just enough that he lost control of his vehicle. He pulled the steering wheel sharply to the left and the van barreled head on into a building across the street.

Polly didn't stick around long to watch the smoking wreckage. She helped Riley to his feet while he stared, hypnotized by the accident she had caused. "Wow..."

"Come on," she yelled, snapping him out of his reverie. "We can't stay here. Follow me and when I say so, we're splitting up. You hide in a dumpster or something and I'll lead them away from you. Got it?"

Riley did not like the sound of splitting up, but he didn't get a chance to say so as she suddenly took off in a run. He scrambled to follow her just as he heard loud voices yelling after them. She shot off a few rounds behind her and Riley flinched at the sound. He was struggling to just keep up with her as she ran. He wondered how she could run so smoothly in those stiletto heels.

"Riley," she called back to him. "Where's the gun I gave you?"

"Oh…I, uh…kinda…dropped it," he panted pathetically in response.

"You _dropped_ it?!"

Riley felt his cheeks turn red. "Um, yeah…sort of…it was like…defective or something…I'm pretty sure…"

She grumbled something under her breath before turning again to shoot at the men chasing them. Riley looked over his shoulder for a split second and was surprised to see no more than one very large man with dark slicked back hair bearing down on them. And he was catching up at an alarmingly fast rate.

Polly pulled the trigger again but nothing happened. Her clip was empty. She resorted to tossing the now useless pistol in the man's direction with a curse. He dodged it easily and continued his jog towards them. The man pursuing them didn't have a gun, but just based on the size of his fists alone Riley figured he wouldn't need one.

"Riley," Polly was yelling. "This way! Hurry!"

She dashed around a graffitied building's corner and into an alleyway so fast that Riley almost didn't see her turn. She didn't say split up, so he continued to follow her, though his reflexes were, regrettably, not as quick as hers were. He found himself needing to slow down significantly for the turn just to keep from running too far or falling down completely. But it was in that second were he took an extra few steps just before disappearing around the corner that he felt large, steely fingers grab him by the right arm and jerk him backward. He heard a loud crunch and a pop, and realized with horror that it was the sickening sound of his own limb being pulled out of its socket.

Riley screamed and sank to his knees, even as his arm started to go painfully numb in his attacker's grasp.

"Riley!"

Polly had turned at the sound of his cry and was already throwing the heel of her hand up against Riley's attacker's chin before the man even had a chance to defend himself. His teeth clattered together loudly and he released Riley's arm to clutch his now bleeding face. Riley collapsed on shaking knees and was thoroughly disgusted to see a hefty chunk of the larger man's tongue lying bloody on the ground before him. He grew even more disgusted when he noticed how horribly wrong his own shoulder looked, even through his layers of shirts.

Polly didn't hesitate as she suddenly threw another, even stronger punch into Riley's attacker's face. The large man recoiled with a lisped curse and looked up just in time to see the sharp end of Polly's high heel coming at him. She hit him in the throat and a sharp crack echoed through the alley as he fell back with a garbled gasp, his neck snapped clean through. He was out for the count and, after a quick glance to see if anyone was watching, Polly hauled him awkwardly up with a grunt and dropped his body in the alleyway's dumpster that she had probably considered using as Riley's hiding place.

Once her work was done and the coast was indefinitely clear, she finally turned to Riley, who had not moved from where he was on his knees clutching at his arm.

"Riley," she said hesitantly. "Are…are you okay?"

He looked up slowly and saw through his blurring vision her beautiful face staring down at him, her expression one of sympathy more than annoyance which made him feel a little better at least.

"Riley?" She crouched down in front of him so her face was barely an inch from his own. "Hey, Riley…?"

He opened his mouth a crack to tell her he was fine but could only get a whimper out. He could already feel it, the tightening of his throat, the burning in his eyes, his own lips beginning to quiver ever so slightly—he couldn't let himself cry in front of a girl, even if his arm was hanging at a very unnatural angle. Tough guys don't cry—they laugh at pain.

Riley tried to laugh but it came out like a pathetic, shaky sob. "I'm f-fine…" he squeaked as steadily as he could.

"Come on," she said softly. "We've gotta get out of here before the rest of them find us."

He groaned. The last thing he wanted to do right now was move.

"You won't have to go far, I promise."

He nodded stiffly but didn't even try to stand.

"Riley, can I help you up?"

He looked up at her lovely face and her gentle, concerned expression with every intention of insisting he was fine again, but ended up sniffling pathetically instead. "O-okey dokey," he finally whimpered.

* * *

_First of all—holy crap thanks for all the awesomely supportive reviews! They make me feel all warm and fuzzy and appreciated inside :) Smiley faces are back! Yay!_

_Second of all—I'm glad some of you mentioned that you liked Polly's character thus far. I wasn't sure how well she'd be received, what with all you crazy fan girls out there… :) But seriously—my main passion in this world has become one for drawing. Drawing sexy ladies, to be precise. My new icon was a quick sketch of Polly I did when I first started writing this over the summer. I've also been drawing "Bond" girls as of late (sort of in anticipation for "Quantum of Solace," but I heard it majorly sucked so I'm not going to rush out and see it anytime soon), and one of them just had to become a Polly. So…if anyone wants to see a decent sketch of what she kinda looks like, head on over to my homepage. She's code named "Bond Girl."_


	6. we're walking

**Chapter VI: we're walking**

Polly gently wrapped her arms around his chest and helped him up, all the while being extra careful not to jolt his injured shoulder. After glancing around quickly to make sure no one else had caught up to them, she kicked out a rusted old door adjacent to the alleyway and led Riley into the shadowed, dusty old building that had to have been abandoned for at least twenty years. They moved to the far end of the large room and into a smaller space that must have once been used as a private office. Thankfully this door was still functional at least, and once they were inside Polly was quick to shut it and reinforce it with what was left of an ancient metal filing cabinet.

Riley, meanwhile, slumped against the wall on the other side of the room and slid down to the floor, still trying to shrug off the agonizing injury without actually shrugging. Polly crouched down in front of him and gently examined his dislocated shoulder.

"Th-this is nothing," he kept muttering, while inside he just wished he would pass out already—it hurt that bad. "I've had…_waaay_ worse…"

"I'm pretty sure I can fix that."

He whimpered pathetically. "P-please do…"

She chewed on her lip and looked anxiously at him.

"What?" he whined, unsure of how much longer he could attempt to keep his tears at bay.

"I don't want to…to hurt you, Riley," she said gently.

"So d-don't."

"But I have to force your arm back in. It's gonna hurt.

Riley groaned impatiently and grit his teeth to force back the thought of more pain. "More than…when it came out? …I doubt it. Let's just…get this…over with…"

Polly still looked apprehensive. "But, Riley—"

"Oh my God," Riley gasped, desperate for some sort of relief. "Will you just…fix it…already?! I'm _dying_ here…"

"Alright," she said calmly. "Just relax and try to stay still."

She stood over him, leaning down so she could press her knee under his arm pit. Her slender fingers gently grasped his right forearm and wrist and lifted it away from his body, straightening the limb as she did so. He tried and failed to hide his pained winces that came with even the slightest movement. She shot him a deeply concerned glance before announcing, "Riley, I'm going to put your arm back into its socket at the count of three. Ready?"

He moaned, too engulfed in pain to respond or to even gawk at her legs in their close, but tense, proximity.

She nodded grimly and took a deep breath. "One—"

Polly had barely finished saying "one" when she suddenly jerked Riley's arm forward and back in one quick fluid motion so the arm settled in its socket again with a crunch. Riley howled in pain and yanked his arm from her grasp to cradle it against his chest.

"Ow, what the hell?!" he gasped. "I thought you were supposed to count to three?!"

"Sorry, Riley," she said genuinely. "I figured it would be best to just get it over with. It didn't hurt as much when you weren't really expecting it, did it?"

"What? That doesn't make any sense…it still hurt," he whined.

"But it doesn't hurt anymore, does it?"

Riley blinked. She was right—it didn't hurt anymore. He lowered his arm to bend and twist the repaired limb gingerly. But besides a slight, weird tingling feeling that ran down his arm to his fingertips and a dull, throbbing ache that lingered in his shoulder, he was okay.

"Wow," he said with a chuckle. "That was awesome."

She grinned triumphantly and stood over him with her hands on her hips. "Sure. But if I were you I wouldn't do any strenuous lifting for a while."

He tried to raise his arm over his head but winced before he could even hold his arm out straight. "Yeah…definitely no lifting."

Satisfied that his arm was as good as new as it was going to get, Riley took a few minutes to examine their surroundings. The building was old, dirty, and dilapidated with faint beams of late morning sunlight pouring through cracks of the boarded up windows that served as the only means of light in the dim darkness. Riley also noted with dread that he and Polly had taken refuge in a small room with only one way out—the barricaded door.

"What are we doing here?" he dared to ask.

Polly, who had been pressed against the wall straining to hear what was going on outside, didn't look at him. "We're hiding," she whispered.

"Well _duh_," Riley scoffed. "I can see that. But what are we going to _do_?"

She abandoned her post by the wall and turned to Riley with a sigh. "Nothing."

"So we're just supposed to sit here and wait for them to find us?"

She slumped down on the ground next to him. "That's exactly what we're supposed to do."

"Really?"

"Really."

"That sounds kinda…dumb. Shouldn't we be out, like getting help or kicking those guys' asses like you did before?"

"Can't do that, Riley."

"But…but we can do _something_, right?"

She shook her head sadly and realization hit Riley like a truck.

"Oh my God," he gasped. "You _want _us to get caught, don't you?"

Once again, her silence was all the confirmation Riley needed.

"Oh man. But I thought…we were…that they…aren't they gonna kill us?"

She shrugged. "Eventually."

Riley choked and sputtered, but no intelligible words could be heard.

"I'm sorry, Riley, really," Polly said genuinely. "You weren't supposed to get involved in this. I thought if I saved you and took you back home in time, they would realize they made a mistake and come after me instead."

Riley wasn't sure if he was flattered by that or not. "Oh, well…you don't have to _sacrifice _yourself just for me..."

"I never intended to. I knew this was going to happen, whether you were with me or not."

Riley was agape. "So this was _suicide _mission?! And now I'm gonna die, too?!"

"No one's supposed to _die_," she insisted calmly. "I just need to be able to find and infiltrate their base, and getting caught by them was the only feasible plan to do just that."

"'Feasible'?!" Riley cried. "That's the _stupidest_ plan I've ever heard, and I'm friends with Ben Gates!"

"It'll be alright, Riley," she said calmly. "The O.S.I. would be able to track me to their hideout, wherever it is."

"Track you?"

She grinned humorlessly. "Microchip. Try and guess where it is."

Riley shuddered. "No thanks. So what are these super bad guys supposed to be doing that's so…_bad_ anyway?"

"Can't say."

"What's that supposed to mean?" he sputtered. "_You_ don't even know what's going on?"

"Of course I do. I just can't tell you. Secret intelligence business, you know."

"Great, so now I'm caught up in all this bullshit and I can't even know what's going on?"

"Pretty much," she replied monotonically.

He swallowed hard before asking as seriously as he could, "well…what are they going to do to us? I mean once we get to…wherever we're going."

"They're probably gonna try to interrogate us. But we cannot tell them what we know."

"And I know nothing. Great. What about after that?"

She hesitated and suddenly Riley wasn't so sure he wanted to hear the answer he knew she was going to give. "They're going to kill us, Riley," she finally said with grim honesty. "Unless we can kill them first."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," he sighed before another thought crossed his mind. "Do I have to?"

She blinked. "Do…what?"

"You know…kill people. 'Cause I don't think I can do it."

She turned to stare at him like that was hands down the strangest comment she'd ever heard. "But, Riley, this is justifiable murder. Sometimes you've got to do it…for the greater good, you know."

"'The greater good,'" he repeated with a humorless chuckle. "But seriously, you have to do all the killing. It's just that blood and stuff, you know, grosses me out."

"Oh. Yeah, I understand," she said with a soft smile. "I'll be as cleanly as possible."

"Good."

"I promise I'm still going to try to get you out of here," Polly assured him. "But if they do happen to catch us, I want you to keep playing dumb. Just stay quiet and try to follow my lead."

"I'm good at that, trust me," Riley said grimly. "I'm a prime example of a…a mindless _sidekick_."

"Don't say that," Polly said in the hopes of cheering him up. "You've done a lot of great things, Riley. I mean, not many people can say they found _two_ famous treasures…"

"_Ben_ found the treasures," he muttered.

"But you helped," she insisted. "And…and you even wrote a book!"

Riley perked up a little. "You read my book?"

Regrettably she wasn't quick enough to lie to him and tell him she had. "Uh..."

"Nobody read my stupid book," Riley grumbled with a huff. He started to cross his arms over his chest in an annoyed gesture, but winced in pain when he moved too quickly. Polly reached out and gently lowered his arm to the side and intertwined her fingers with his to keep the injured limb still. Her warm grasp felt nice next to Riley's cold, still slightly numb hand.

She was doing a pretty good job of making him feel better, even just by sitting with him. Sure, this wasn't exactly how he'd thought his day would turn out, but right now, being with Polly was a plus in Riley's mind at least. Because it wasn't every day he was rescued by a beautiful stranger.

"Hey," Riley said softly as he broke their brief moment of silence.

"Yes, Riley?"

She turned her dark eyes to meet his and for a second Riley was lost staring into them and he thought he could see sparks flying in their gaze. He had a sudden, powerful urge to gather her in his arms and kiss her.

Instead he cleared his throat. "I just…I didn't really get to, you know, _thank_ you before. For saving my life and everything. I mean, you don't even know me, and you practically risked your life just to save mine. So, I just wanna say, uh, thanks, I guess. I know that doesn't sound like much…but I really mean it."

"You're very welcome," she said with a smile and a gentle squeeze of his hand. "I was happy to do it."

Riley cleared his throat again and shifted uncomfortably for a moment. "And, uh, I guess I just wanna say…_sorry_ for before."

She chuckled humorlessly. "You mean when you were flipping out and yelling at me in the car, or when you lost my _only_ spare gun?"

She had said it in good humor, but still Riley blushed. "Actually I meant when I was…uh…kinda staring at your, uh—" he cleared his throat for a third time "—boobs or whatever."

"Oh," she muttered, her own cheeks turning as brightly shaded as Riley's. "Well, apology accepted then." She casually let go of his hand and folded her arms while Riley silently cursed himself for what he'd said. He wished he'd just kissed her instead of opening his big, stupid mouth.

Hoping to amend his mistake and end his potentially last moments with her on a good note, he squeaked. "And, uh, Polly?"

"Hmm?" she said softly when he said her name.

"Just one more thing."

She blinked but still didn't look at him. "Going to admit to staring at my ass, too?"

He blushed. "Nooo," he groaned. "I wasn't…I mean I didn't… …that's not what I was going to say."

"Okay," she said dryly. "Then what?"

Riley swallowed hard and was about to ask her gentlemanly if he could kiss her when he was interrupted by a soft, echoed banging coming from somewhere outside of their hiding place. Polly suddenly jerked her head up in attention and Riley cringed, silently cursing the interruption.

"Can you stand?" she said softly, her eyes glued to the wall that separated them from the men chasing them.

"What? Of course I can stand," Riley said as he pushed himself to his feet and tried to play the manly part again if only to disband some of the fear he felt. "It was my _arm _that was dislocated. My legs are fine…"

"Shh, they're coming," she whispered. "Just stay behind me."

She positioned herself next to the door and he crouched down behind her.

"You said there were only three of them with you, right?"

Riley nodded. "Yeah. Oh, and the driver."

"Well, I took one out in that alley, so assuming they haven't gotten any back up yet, there should be only three of them."

"And only one of us, technically," Riley said grimly.

"I think I can distract them while you get away. Good luck."

She looked determined with her eyes locked on the lamely barricaded door, but Riley shifted uncomfortably.

"Ya know," he finally said. "I could—"

"Shh!" she hissed back at him.

He cleared his throat. "Ya know," he started again in a hoarse whisper. "I could stick around and help you and stuff."

"Weren't you the one who just said how _useless_ you were?"

"In so many words," he said, his voice rising a little before she shushed him again. "But seriously. You shouldn't have to do this by yourself. I can help with some stuff."

"Why would you even want to help me?" she asked softly in a barely audible voice. "You don't know me."

Riley shrugged. "Because you helped me."

She finally turned to look at him, not with surprise or irritation on her face, but with a soft smile and a somewhat appreciative expression that quickly fell when a loud thudding sounded at the door. She quickly shook her head.

"No, Riley," she whispered. "I have to do this alone. I'm going to take out these guys and you have to make a run for it."

"But—"

"No buts," she replied sternly. "I promised I'd get you out of here, so I'm going to get you the hell outta here. Got it?"

Riley wanted to argue further when the cabinet blocking the door suddenly rattled and tipped over. The door swung open with that last blow, and not one, but two menacing figures entered the room with their fists raised. But they clearly weren't prepared for an attack from the side, as Polly tackled the one guy while Riley suddenly dove at the other's legs. Both men fell to the ground with a startled cry and their heads cracked against the concrete, not hard enough kill them, but it would certainly knock them out for a short while at least. The second they were down Polly grasped Riley's hand and dashed out of the room.

"That's two of them," she gasped. "There should be only one left. I'll find him, you get out of here before—"

She was going to say before more of them arrived, but apparently she was too late. She threw open the door and came face to face with dozen darkly dressed, malicious looking men. In front of the line was one especially monstrous looking fellow, with a shaved head, a jagged scar on the side of his face, and massive Hulk sized fists. Riley thought the behemoth's silhouette looked very familiar, and he was sure those hands would have fit the red impressions on Riley's cheeks. The scarred man grinned horribly when he saw the recognition on the younger man's face.

Riley responded by muttering a defeated, "aw, crap…"

* * *

_Halfway done :)_

_Busy, busy week… This was a kinda rushed, pieced together chapter, but hopefully everything makes sense. I'm gonna tone down some of the violence in the future, because I think I scared some people in that last chapter : \ _

_But yay people like Polly! Thanks for the reviews—I always keep them in mind when I'm editing a new chapter :)_


	7. she'll lead

**Chapter VII: she'll lead**

The ride to wherever they were going was a long and quiet one. Riley had been hustled into a dark van, _again_,only this time he didn't even have a chance to even try to escape, as his hands were cuffed tightly behind him and there was a gun being pointed in his face by the very big, very scary looking bald man. Riley might have hoped for another freak rescue, except for the fact that his original rescuer was currently sitting next to him in the same disconcerting situation. Polly had grim determination etched into her features as she stared blankly ahead, but Riley for one was having trouble staying so calm. He was nervous, and when he was nervous he fidgeted a lot. And while fidgeting helped a little bit, he still felt like he was slowly going crazy in the foreboding silence.

"So…" Riley said suddenly, unable to keep his mouth shut any longer. "You guys are part of some kind of…terrorist operation…thingy?"

He was directing his question to the large gun wielding man in front of him. Riley was absolutely positive now that this was the same guy who had tried to interrogate him earlier—the death glare he had locked on the young man was indication enough.

"I am Micale," the man finally growled, as though that alone should entice fear in his victims.

But Riley was more confused than intimidated. "Michael?" he asked, unable to discern the name through the thick accent.

"_Micale_…"

"Michelle? Dude that's a girl's name," Riley chortled. "I mean, I know Riley can be a girl name too, but at least it's not as fruity as…_Michelle_."

Polly actually laughed aloud at that, but Micale was not so easily amused. The moment the words left Riley's lips, Micale's free hand shot out and backhanded him across the face.

"Ah, geez," Riley hissed. "Not this crap again. My cheek's already sore from our earlier slap fest."

"You should relish this pain while you can," Micale said with a horrible grin. "It will feel pleasant compared to what I will do to you."

Riley swallowed hard and chose not to speak for the rest of the drive which thankfully didn't last much longer. The van came to a screeching halt and Micale pushed the door open so two of his cronies could forcibly remove Riley and Polly from the vehicle. They found themselves in a bleak setting similar to the one they left, and Riley wondered if they'd just been driving in circles to end up in the same warehouse they'd been taken from. But there were some differences, most notably the fact that there was only one large, white washed cube of a building with virtually no windows standing ominously a clearing surrounded by trees beneath the clear blue sky. For all Riley knew, they were in the middle of nowhere.

He had barely gotten a good look around when he felt himself being shoved forward towards the darkened warehouse's single entrance. They were hustled through the door into a vast, high ceilinged room lit only by a few overhead lights. Riley could sense many gazes following him as he was hustled towards the center of the space, but couldn't make out any of the figures in the shadows. He tried to make eye contact with Polly, but as soon as they were stopped in a circle of light the man forcing her along shoved her to the ground. Without her hands to break her fall, she hit the concrete floor hard with a gasp.

"Hey!" Riley exclaimed as he instinctively moved to help her, only to be shoved face first into the ground as well.

"And who do we have here?" a deep, confident sounding voice boomed from the darkness in front of them and sent a shiver down Riley's spine.

"Riley Poole, sir," Micale announced. "And an accomplice. She has been trailing us since we arrived in the city, and intervened when we first tried to acquire Poole. She killed one of your men with her bare hands, sir."

The terrorist leader stepped out of the shadows to see his prisoners better. Riley was surprised to see that the man he was supposed to be so afraid of was merely old and frail geezer with a shock of white hair and a shiny cane that kept his arched form from tipping over entirely.

"Is that so?" the elderly gentleman said. "Well, this is quite a quandary now, isn't it? Could there be _two_ Reiy Polloes? Surely I haven't made a mistake, or is your pathetic government organization trying to make a monkey out of me?" The man's questions were apparently rhetorical as he shook his head and chuckled before anyone could attempt answer them. "No matter—soon you will both be dead, along with the entire capital." He laughed maniacally, the crazed sounds echoing off the warehouse walls.

Riley raised an eyebrow at this, wondering what that could possibly mean, or if the words were merely the ramblings of a senile old man. Polly, on the other hand, knew exactly what the criminal mastermind was talking about.

"The O.S.I. already knows the plans for your bomb, Sloan," Polly said confidently over the terrorist's laughter. "We'll have it disabled before you can even pull the trigger."

The old man had to take a deep, raspy breath before he was able to speak again. "Is that so?" he wheezed, breathless from his cackling. "But what if I moved the devices? Changed a few wires perhaps? What will your Secret Intelligence friends do then, hmm?"

Polly opened her mouth to retort when Riley suddenly grasped what was going on. "Holy crap," he exclaimed loudly. "A bomb?!" All heads turned to look at him, and he quickly amended his previous statement as an embarrassed flush rose in his cheeks. "I mean, yes…bomb. I totally knew that." Polly groaned audibly at his stupidity as he continued to yell to their captor, "but you'll never get away with it!"

"Oh no?" Sloan said in the eerily calm voice that only a super villain could possess. "And how do you intend to stop me?"

Riley shifted nervously where he lay on the floor. "With, you know…like, guys and stuff."

Polly shot him a look and shook her head ever so slightly, not wanting him to slip about the O.S.I.'s ability to track them. But none of the criminals even considered such a notion, as they all laughed at Riley's ridiculous comment.

"Enough," Sloan finally said. "We're done here. Time is precious and we are steadily reaching our deadline." He pointed to a few men in particular and ordered them to "stay here and watch the device, just as a precaution." The men looked nervously at one another, but didn't argue with the leader that had just ordered them to stay behind, ultimately dooming them to their deaths. Finally, the elderly leader turned to address his captives. He looked down at them and grinned, revealing very few rotted teeth. "These two will stay to die in the blast."

The rest of the men started clearing out of the building, leaving Riley and Polly handcuffed and sprawled in the center of the room. But one stayed and stood ominously over them.

The old man must have seen the malicious look in Micale's eyes because he suddenly grinned evilly and said, "do what you will with them. See if they have any new information for us before they die. But be quick about it."

Micale nodded and Sloan limped away with the help of his cane. The door closed with a bang behind him leaving only a handful of people in the large room. The few men that were ordered to stay behind sighed heavily and moved with hung heads towards the back of the room, disappearing into the dark shadows as their footsteps echoed upwards on what Riley could only assume was a metal staircase. This left only Micale as he stared almost hungrily down at his prey. Riley for one was scared shitless, but Polly somehow managed to keep her cool.

"Oh, you can stay as long as you want," she called confidently to Micale. "Because those bombs are _never_ going off."

"You lie," he spat as he bore down on her. "You take me for an imbecile, but we will see who looks more foolish when I am through with you…"

He grasped a chunk of Polly's dark hair tight in his fist and snapped her head back. She winced, but never broke her gaze with her massive captor, daring him to follow through with his threats. Micale grinned and pulled his other fist back. Riley swallowed hard and shifted uncomfortably where lay barely a yard away from Polly. He couldn't do it—he couldn't just sit back and watch a girl take a beating for him.

"Uh, hey," Riley called suddenly as he pushed himself to his knees to get as much attention on him as possible. Micale froze at the interruption and turned his scarred face to glare at Riley, who cleared his throat. "Hey man…can I just, say something before you hit the lovely, _completely _innocent young lady you've got there?"

Micale snarled in response and was just starting to jerk his fist towards Polly's face when Riley spoke up again.

"Okaaay, go ahead, break her face…but you're making a really big mistake…"

Micale growled like an animal and snapped his neck around to glower at Riley again. "You are the one who is making the mistake by speaking right now."

"Well I just thought you should know she has nothing to do with any of this."

Riley smirked at Micale, who dropped Polly to the ground and focused all of his attention on the annoying young man before him. "So you would like me to hurt you instead?"

"I'm just trying to tell you that she doesn't know anything," Riley called with a smug grin. "That's how low on the O.S.I. food chain she is."

Micale raised an eyebrow while Polly looked at Riley with a bewildered, what-the-hell-are-you-saying kind of expression. "But he…he doesn't know anything either!" she insisted. "Hurting either of us would be…_completely _useless…"

Riley grinned. If there was one thing he was especially good at, it was annoying people into submission. "You don't really want to beat up a _girl_, do you?"

She glared at him. "But I'll bet you don't want to beat on a…a wimpy _loser_ either…"

"Hey I'm tougher than I look," Riley said with an awkward but dismissive shrug.

Micale looked momentarily confounded by the banter going on between the two.

"Hey, hey…I killed one of your friends," Polly called to the colossus.

"Oh, yeah?" Riley retorted. "Well I would've killed him, but I had my arm _ripped _out of its socket. And I'm totally cool right now—dislocated arm and all. See?" He made a point of rotating his shoulder as best as he could with his arms cuffed behind him. "_See_?"

"What?!" Polly snapped. "You were practically crying before."

"Was not."

"Was too!"

"Enough!" Micale roared. They both fell immediately silent and stared up at him while he looked back and forth between them. He finally settled his gaze on Riley. "You have been a pain to me all day, so you will be the first to suffer."

"Oh," Riley said simply. "Okay, cool. You've got some questions to ask me or something right?"

"Whatever information you hold in your tiny brain makes no difference to me anymore."

Riley swallowed hard. He had been hoping he could bypass the torture aspect of the interrogation by answering the man's questions with a few bogus answers. "Um, okay… Can I ask you some questions, then?"

"Damn it, Riley, what—" Polly started to say but was backhanded by Micale. Riley winced for her as the sound echoed off the vast room's walls and she tipped over with a groan and a curse.

Micale left her there and took steady steps forward while Riley scooted backward into the shadows almost as steadily. But soon he hit a wall, and was left with nowhere to go. He only hoped his big mouth would be able to save Polly, at least.

"So, uh, that's a pretty nifty accent you've got going on there," Riley said. "What country are you from again?"

Micale, startled for a moment by the strange question, growled, "what?!"

Riley grinned. "Oh," he said simply. "I didn't know that 'what' was a country."

Polly groaned again where she was lying, only this time it was caused by the lameness of Riley's quip, not the blow to her face.

"Do they speak English in 'what'?" Riley chuckled to himself. "Duh! Of _course_ they do, otherwise we wouldn't be talking right now…"

A fist came seemingly out of nowhere and collided with Riley's face. His head snapped to the side as blinding pain streaked across his cheek and over the bridge of his nose. Barely a second later he felt a trickle of something warm and liquid running down the side of his nose.

"Ah, God," Riley groaned. "It was just a joke! You didn't have to freaking _hit_ me…"

Speaking again only earned him another blow to the face. Now blood was running out of his nostrils, too. He hissed at the pain. His nose didn't feel broken, as he could still wrinkle it and smell the blood running down his face from the cut, but it was hard to tell for sure—he'd never broken his nose before. He'd had plenty of nose bleeds, but no breaks.

"A joke, huh?" Micale scoffed. "So you think you are funny?"

Riley looked up at the man and said earnestly in a somewhat stuffy voice, "Oh I don't think I'm funny—I _know_ I'm funny." A grin grew through the blood running from his nose at the flabbergasted expression on the other man's face. "I've got more jokes, too, if you wanna hear them. See I never really had an opportunity to tell them all before, so—"

Riley's words were drowned out by his strained cry as a massive fist grasped the collar of his shirt and lifted him off the ground. Micale leaned forward so he was mere centimeters away from Riley's face. "I will make it so you can never tell jokes again," he hissed.

Riley shuddered and closed his eyes as he took a deep, calming breath. He needed just a moment to think and compose himself to prepare for the very foolish thing he was about to do. When he opened his eyes again he grinned stupidly up at Micale.

"Okay…so stop me if you've heard this one before. Knock knock—"

He was slammed head first against the wall behind him and the back of his skull bounced off the hard surface with a dull thud. Riley groaned as agonizing pain shot through his head and neck. He had to take a second to blink the stars out of his eyes so he could see the massive man still standing over him. Micale was cracking his knuckles, apparently daring the young man to speak again. Riley coughed lightly and shook his throbbing head.

"You could have just…said you don't like…knock knock jokes." He swallowed hard, but couldn't stop himself from asking, "h-how about…jokes that…make fun of…your mother?"

In a normal situation Riley would have kept his mouth shut just by looking at the other man's expression. It was a terrifying glare that, coupled with the scar, basically said, "speak, and I _kill _you." But this was far from a normal situation. Riley wasn't sure where he got this sudden bout of bravery as he swallowed back his fear, wincing in advance as he exclaimed,

"Y-yo mamma's…s-so stupid…she kept saying 'am not,' to R2!"

Riley doubted the behemoth even got the joke, but anything that mocked a person's mother was taken in offense, whether the punch line was in fact understood or not. Riley squeezed his eyes shut so he wouldn't have to watch Micale's massive fist slam into his face again.

Polly let out a short cry that sounded funny in Riley's ears as he tipped over to the ground and briefly watched the stars that danced in front of his eyes. He actually lost consciousness for a split second, before a stabbing pain in his cheek woke him up again. He turned his head absentmindedly to spit blood out of his mouth and was horrified to see that one of his back teeth was lying in the small puddle of blood spittle. He gagged at the sight and at the now empty feeling towards the back of his mouth, but forced himself to continue, slurring his words as he said, "hey…hey what do you call…a _doctor_ who fails out of med school? …A _dentist_!"

Micale's boot suddenly drove itself into Riley's gut with alarming force. Riley doubled over on the ground, gasping for a long few moments as he tried to recover the wind that had been effectively knocked out of him. He heard Polly yelling again, and saw that she had somehow gotten to her feet and thrown herself bodily against Micale. But the man was not so easily defeated, and with a growl he shoved her back to the ground and kicked her just like he had kicked Riley. She groaned in pain and didn't move except to curl into a fetal position while she coughed miserably.

"Hey," Riley gasped, as somehow seeing Polly in pain was worse than anything he himself was currently feeling. "Hey, leave her alone!"

Micale turned back to Riley with a feral yell and kicked the young man again and again, though these blows were much sloppier than any of the others had been. Clearly the he was getting frustrated.

"You are harder than I anticipated you would be," the big man commented.

Riley snorted and couldn't help but shriek "that's what she said!" in a high pitched, scratchy voice. He let out a crazed laugh and felt warm blood dribble down his chin. He couldn't have asked for a better line for that one. Riley was honestly very glad that the jokes were coming a little easier now that he was slightly concussed. In fact, the next blow to his head didn't even hurt as much as the last ones had. He could feel his brains rattling around though, and he imagined that that probably wasn't a good thing. He chuckled some more and swallowed the blood that was accumulating in his mouth, almost used to the awful taste already.

"Okay…okay…" he gasped. "So, there's a…f-family of…_tomatoes_…"

Then he was kicked smack dab in the center of his chest. Riley's laughing ceased and he let out an agonized cry. He could feel his ribs take the brunt of the blow over his already burning lungs as he tried in vain to take a breath. He laid on his side on the hard ground, his sore body curled awkwardly in on itself while he moaned and wheezed pathetically.

Micale grinned and stared down at his broken captive. He was convinced the young man wouldn't be talking anymore, but Riley had his heart set on revealing the punch line of his joke, so with what little air was left in his lungs he managed to gasp, "k-ketchup!"

An almost fearful expression crossed Micale's scarred face when Riley kept laughing that pathetic, sputtering laugh of his. The terrorist muttered some foreign curse to himself and started fumbling with the many pockets of his coat and pants, finding pistols, switchblades, a lighter, and various other devices that could somehow be utilized to cause bodily harm to another, but returned all the weapons to their proper places. He finally retrieved what he was looking for and held it in front of Riley.

Riley gulped. "H-hey—is your sign cancer?"

The larger man responded by yanking a long strip off the roll of silver duct tape.

Riley whimpered. "Try not to…shove that roll of duct tape…up your—"

He couldn't finish as the sticky substance was suddenly pulled taught over his lips and wrapped around his head.

"Finally," the Micale mumbled. "Thought you would never shut up."

He slapped Riley across the back of the head and Riley fell forward onto the concrete. He moaned and tried to maneuver his jaw to get the tape of but it was no use—the stuff was stuck tight.

Exhausted and aching, Riley lay still for a moment, fighting unconscious. He turned his head and saw Polly not far from him, but had to blink the fuzziness from his eyes to make sure he was seeing her right. Her fearless, almost stony façade had dissipated, and Riley could swear he saw bright tears in her eyes.

She whimpered his name through quivering lips.

Riley's heart broke to see her so upset, and his immediate thought was that she was hurt somehow, because no girl would ever cry for him…would they? He started to push himself up onto his elbows and tried to tell her he was fine, but he forgot about the tape on his mouth and all that came out was some inarticulate muttering.

But Micale heard it, and the bigger man finally lost what little patience he still had.

"I thought I told you," he suddenly bellowed as he grasped Riley by the hair and pulled back his fist. "To shut the fuck up!"

The heavy fist collided with the side of Riley's head and knocked him back to the ground. He heard Polly cry something to him but he couldn't understand it through the ringing in his ears. Apparently this last blow had hit the spot as he felt himself almost immediately falling unconscious. But even as he lay there, his eyes rolling back into darkness, Riley couldn't help but ask himself what exactly he thought he was doing here, in this situation. Helping Polly? Hardly. As soon as he was unconscious Micale'd probably start hurting her again.

But just before Riley passed out completely, he heard a strange, haunting voice in his head answer his unsaid question…

"You're doing what any sane man in your appalling circumstances would do—you're going mad…"

* * *

_Phew, that was a long one! The longest by far :)_

_Anywho, there were lots of joke references in there—my usual Tarantino film references (there are certain things I do in every story (with the exception of one shots), regardless of what said story is about), "Seinfeld," "Robot Chicken," "The Office," uh…there's a Weird Al song in there…and "The Killing Joke" was referenced, as well as some other stuff I probably forgot about. I actually thought back to the pizza torture scene in my other story (the murdered one) and tried to do the same thing to make it kinda funny but at the same time just really horrible. If that makes any sense… :)_

_Crap! And I meant to say "Happy Turkey Day" last week but I forgot. So…Happy Belated Turkey Day! Thanks as always for the reviews :)_


	8. if she's waiting

**Chapter VIII: if she's waiting**

"Riley?"

Her voice was soft as it echoed through his aching head. Maybe he wasn't really going crazy. Maybe he was just dreaming again. He hoped he was dreaming again.

"Riley, please wake up…"

Nope. Definitely not dreaming. That was Polly's voice, though it sounded a little funny through the sound of his own blood pulsing in his ears. But he could hear, quite clearly, that her tone was laced with fear and desperation, so he decided he had better wake up already, for her sake at least. He groaned so she could at least tell he was listening to her, and she sighed in relief.

"Oh, Riley," she said softly, her voice quivering ever so slightly with emotion. "Thank God…you had me scared there for a second…"

His eyes opened a crack and he could just make out her fuzzy shape in front of him, barely five feet away. She looked okay, other than the bruising that was starting to darken on her cheek, no doubt caused by the back of Micale's plate sized hand. Riley tried to call out to her, to tell her he was alright, to find out if she really was alright, but all that came out was a pathetic whimpering through the tape over his mouth.

"Don't worry, Riley," she whispered, despite the worry that was clearly audible in her voice. "We're in a bit of a jam, but I'm going to get us out of here. I promise."

In a jam was an understatement. From what Riley could see, they were absolutely screwed.

They must have been in the basement of the warehouse, in a boiler room or something. She was kneeling on the floor with her arms still handcuffed and now secured to the chain link fence behind her. Riley would have tried to get up to help her had he not found himself in a similar situation, only his handcuffs were wrapped around a thick, unrelenting vertical pipe. So, yeah, they were both pretty screwed.

Riley took a second to blink the lingering fuzziness from his vision, and then another second to try to push himself up from the awkward half laying, half sitting position he found himself in. He immediately regretted the action as familiar pains made themselves known again all over his body, especially in his wrists where the handcuffs had been closed far too tightly. He couldn't even take a deep, refreshing breath because of the duct tape over his mouth and the aching in his chest coupled with his bloody nose.

"Oh, geez, Riley," Polly moaned with concern when she saw his winces as though she too was in pain just from watching him struggle. She pulled on her own restraints, wanting nothing more than to be able to help and comfort him. "Are you okay?"

He shot her a look that plainly said, _do I _look_ okay to you?_

"I am so sorry, Riley," she said genuinely. "I'm sorry I got you into this mess." She paused and stared right into his eyes before nodding her head off to one side. "I mean," she continued in a noticeably louder and stiffer voice. "You were probably having a _great_ day before all this happened. Now you're getting kidnapped and beaten up, and we're all going to _die…_"

He raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if he was hearing her correctly. Was she really just going to give up that easily?

But she jerked her head to the side again and sent Riley another meaningful look. And he got it. He finally got it. He looked in the direction she'd been pointing at with her head and had to blink a few times before he could just make out the outline of a thin figure pacing at the other end of the room with a large, lethal looking machine gun of some kind clenched tight in his fists. The man was barely visible because of all the piping and fencing that separated him from the prisoners, but Riley could definitely see his tense form moving back and forth restlessly in front of the closed doorway.

"Yup," Polly continued shrilly for the man across the room to hear. "In less than one hour that bomb is going to go off and everything within a fifty mile radius is going to be blown to teensy, tiny little bits."

She waited, listening and staring in the direction she'd indicated before. Riley watched, too, as their guard continued his tense pacing but did not leave the room, not even with the vocal reminder that he would soon be meeting his demise. Riley heard Polly's dejected sigh and turned to see her slump down in defeat. She closed her eyes and would have looked like she was in a meditative state, if not for the scowl on her dark expression.

"I'm sorry, Riley," she whispered again, only this time her shaky voice was barely audible. "I'm so sorry…"

That was it. She was definitely giving up. Riley moaned, wishing his mouth was free. Then he could comfort her and help her with her plan to scare the guard away. Riley had already proven how good he was at annoying people into defeat, and he could certainly help Polly with…well, whatever her plan was exactly. But he couldn't even talk to her with the damn tape over his mouth.

He tried once again to twist his body in the hopes of somehow getting his hands free. All he ended up doing was hurting himself further as his arms and his once dislocated shoulder especially ached from the effort. He finally gave up just like she had and drooped down where he sat. Only now he had a new problem. Even the slightest bit of effort he'd exerted in his struggling had sped up his already exhausted breathing, and he was finding it impossible to take even the slightest breath. Not only was the tape blocking his airway, but his nose still hurt and was uncomfortably stuffed up with dried blood. His breath came in short, sniffling bursts, and he wondered how he'd even managed to breathe for however long he was unconscious.

"Riley," she said so softly he could barely hear it over his own hyperventilating. "Are…are you okay?"

He tried to take a deep breath and failed miserably.

"Oh, Jesus," she mumbled before turning her head to yell across the room. "Hey! Hey, he's not okay! Don't you think you should do something?"

"Why?" the guard yelled back. "You're both going to die anyway."

Polly looked anxiously to Riley and chewed on her lip for a moment before finally losing it. She turned to the guard and shrieked uncharacteristically, "oh yeah?! Well I'll be seeing you in hell soon, you son of a bitch, and then we'll see how…how _tough_ you really are!"

"Yeah, whatever," the guard snorted.

Riley would have laughed at her cursing out their captor, had he been able to breath, of course.

"Riley, you've just got to relax," she said quietly, her voice shaking with emotion again. "We're gonna be alright. I've got a plan…sort of. You need to just stay alive for me. You think you can do that? For me?"

He swallowed hard and forced himself to nod. _Oh yeah…yeah I can do that…anything for you… _

He closed his eyes and thought hard about just staying alive, but even his thoughts were drowned out by the sound of his sniffling and the reminder of his imminent death. His muffled hyperventilating continued and he shook his aching head miserably. He opened his eyes again and looked to Polly, desperate for some sort of solace.

Polly pushed herself further up on her knees, leaning forward as far as her handcuffed arms allowed. "Riley, Riley, try not to think about anything, okay? You're just freaking yourself out. Just don't think about the bomb…"

_Bomb?!_ She only succeeded in freaking Riley out further as he considered suffocating to be a much more pleasant matter of dying compared to being blown into little pieces.

"Ah, okay, okay" she said quickly when she saw his panicked expression. "Just…forget what I said. I didn't say anything. Tell you what—let's talk about something else, hmm? I hate awkward silences anyway. In fact I usually like to talk in spite of those silences, you know?"

He sincerely doubted that last bit true, but she was successfully taking his mind off his labored breathing as he thought, o_h man, me too_…

"Like before, remember before when they caught us? The whole ride over I thought I was going to explode if no one said anything."

_Ugh, totally_.

"And then what you said was so funny, I didn't think I could keep a straight face," she said with an obviously forced chuckle.

_Ha, yeah…_

She paused. "So…um, what do you wanna talk about now?"

Riley blinked at her. _Uhhh…_

She quickly shook her head, wincing at the very stupid thing she'd just said. "Shit, never mind," she muttered. "I'll try not to ask you any questions." A few more "ums" left her lips before she perked up, exclaiming loudly, "oh I know what to talk about—"

"Hey, come on," the guard suddenly snapped. "Pipe down over there already."

Polly ignored him and continued her one sided conversation with Riley. "I guess I could fill you in about stuff, now that the cat's outta the bag anyway."

Riley nodded stiffly. _Okay_.

"Okay…where to start…well, we—I mean the O.S.I.—have been on these guys' asses for a while now, even back when Sloan was working out of Europe. He's a big arms dealer for insurgent groups and stuff."

"Hey," the guard called more urgently when he heard what she was talking about. "Shut up, seriously…"

"Anyway, we discovered he'd been investing in nuclear weapons and was planning on setting bombs off in the U.S. Capital. We had a double agent, but he was killed when Sloan discovered he was a spy. So then we got a bunch of computer hackers—kinda like you I guess—and they managed to get into Sloan's system. We found all the plans and details about the attack, but couldn't do anything remotely."

"That…those plans are still classified, you know…"

"I was picked as the agent that would infiltrate the base and disable the bomb based on what the hackers discovered. It had to be today, because the bombs are scheduled to go off this afternoon, right on time for downtown rush hour. They're all over the city, but we're not entirely sure where. They'll be set off remotely from this location, which will also be blown up to cover Sloan's tracks."

"You're not supposed to be talking about that stuff…"

"I'm done, alright?!" she yelled back at the guard who was apparently satisfied by her answer as he didn't say anything else. "Yeah. I think that's it. Any questions?" She winced. "Oh, damn, I did it again…"

But Riley didn't even hear her mistake as he was too busy thinking for a moment when he realized he actually did have a question. He tried to communicate one single word to Polly through the tape over his mouth, but she gave him a funny look.

"Something's…stale? My…rail? No? No, okay…are you speaking like…in a foreign language or something? I know most Latin based stuff—"

He stopped her with a groan and a shake of his head. He kept repeating a single name, as slowly and clearly as he could, until Polly was finally able to make out what Riley was trying to say.

"…Micale? You're asking about Micale?"

Riley nodded his aching head fervently as he tried and failed to suck in a breath. _What happened to him?_

"Oh, well after he was done with you, they took us downstairs and he left. I don't blame him—I would leave too if I knew this place was going to explode." She nodded to the guard again. "Too bad the dumbass over there didn't have the same sense."

"Hey, I heard that," the guard yelled. "I would leave, but I'm under orders to watch you two."

Riley blinked heavily. All that head shaking and attempting to communicate robbed him of what little energy he had left to breathe with. He could barely even understand the answer Polly gave him—his mind was growing sluggish and he was feeling extremely light headed due to lack of oxygen. He leaned back heavily against the wide pole that held his arms back and moaned pathetically.

Polly heard the thud of his head suddenly resting against the rusted metal and gasped when she saw his eyes starting to roll back in his head again. "No, no Riley," she whimpered. "Don't give up. Please stay awake, Riley…I-I'll keep talking…about anything... Just stay awake…"

It was weird for Riley to hear that scared and desperate tone to her voice. He'd only known her for the day, but he'd already categorized her from earlier as a cold, but beautiful, terminator like killing machine, almost without capability of any real human emotion. He even thought he'd imagined her shedding tears for him before, but seeing her now, her eyes glossing over again, he realized that she probably really did care about him.

"Riley, _please _don't leave me again…"

Riley puffed out another pathetic sounding breath through his nose and forced his eyes to stay focused on her lovely, pale face. Then he mumbled softly through the tape as clearly as he could, "hi, Polly."

She smiled and let out a short, relieved laugh. "Hi, Riley," she said softly.

The guard on the other side of the room who had been watching them intently suddenly groaned. "Oh my freaking _God_, I can't believe I have to stand here and listen to this sappy shit…"

Polly didn't even turn to snap back at the guard. In fact she probably didn't hear the other man as she had her gaze locked with Riley's from only a few feet away.

"You know you didn't have to do what you did," Polly said, her voice suddenly low and almost guilty sounding.

Riley raised an eyebrow and blinked tiredly in her direction. _What did I do?_

"You shouldn't have gotten hurt because of me," she said in answer to his unsaid question. "I should have spoken up. Gotten Micale's attention before you did. But I guess I was…I was too scared." She shook her head and let out a forced laugh. "I mean, just look at this—" she pointedly blinked back against the tears in her eyes "—see this? This _never _happens. I can't even remember the last time I've cried, and I've been shot like three times already in this past _year _alone. Not kidding."

Riley's eyes widened in somewhat awed surprise, as he himself would probably bawl for his mommy if he ever got shot.

"But when you…did what you did…for me…even when you didn't have to…" She sighed heavily, as what she was saying was obviously difficult for her. "No one's ever done anything like that before…it means a lot. You could've been killed, but still you…you saved me." She let out a shuddering breath. "And Riley…"

Riley swallowed hard. _Yes?_

"I…I know this is probably a bad time and everything," she started slowly. "But…but I just want you to know, before we die, that I…I'm really, _really_ glad we got to spend at least a little time together. You're the sweetest, funniest, _bravest_ guy I've ever met, and, well, I really am sorry you're going to die because of me."

_I'm sorry too_, Riley wished he could say. He sniffled sadly. That was probably the first time a real girl had ever called him brave…or sweet…or funny in a positive way. He suddenly wished he could live through this just long enough to tell her how he felt, too, even if they did barely know each other.

Polly parted her quivering lips to say something else but was interrupted by a sudden thud that sounded from the other end of the room.

"That's it," their guard yelled as he threw the door open, not caring that it swung against the wall with a loud clatter. "I don't deserve this crap," he muttered. "I'm nobody's Goddamn martyr." He pointed his gun in their direction and Riley heard Polly gasp.

But the guard didn't shoot them—he only pointed to them and gestured with the weapon as he said, "you two love birds can get yourselves blown to shit, but not me. I'm outta here, man." And with that he left, not even bothering to shut the door behind him as he took off in a frantic sprint.

Riley and Polly exchanged surprised glances for a moment before a wide smile grew on Polly's once distraught face.

"Finally," she said as the last of their guard's quickened footsteps faded away. "See, Riley—I told you I was gonna get us out of here."

* * *

_Just a quick explanation by Polly of what was kinda going in there, because it really doesn't matter too much in the long run :)_

_So thanks broadwaylover07, LoremIpsum, marinawings, smileyali (thanks for TWO reviews :) I always want to respond to yours but I can't so here it goes—there's going to be no Ben in this story, and while I did not intend for the Kim Possible reference last chapter I totally see it now…I looove Kim Possible), Miss Fenway, and 19thpersonality for reviewing. I'm not sure what happened to everyone else…hopefully I'm not scaring people away. Oh, wait, and I'm giving rileyluver17--who recently reviewed my "Dark Knight" story that was posted a while back--a thanks shout out. Because that counts in my book :)_


	9. we'll leave

**Chapter IX: we'll leave**

Polly shifted her weight to one knee and stretched her arms out stiffly behind her. "See, I knew I could get out of this, I just didn't want to risk it with the guy over there pointing a gun at us," she explained more to herself than to Riley while nodding to the spot where their guard had been just moments before.

Riley let out a heavy, sniffled sigh as he half wished the guard was still there, still threatening shoot them. That way she would say nice things to him again.

"All I have to do is reach my shoe."

Riley blinked out of his reverie. …_Shoe?_

"There's a lock pick hidden in the heel."

_Oh, cool, like James Bond secret gadget stuff…_

But Riley suddenly stopped thinking completely as his mind focused on what she was doing only yards from him. She had her arms stretched straight behind her as far as they could go while she arched her back away from the chain link fence. Her body turned slightly to the side as she brought one of her heels up to her feet while balancing on the knee that was still planted on the ground. She was bending in seemingly impossible ways and making it look effortless.

Riley shuddered and squirmed slightly where he sat as a flush grew in his cheeks from watching her. And suddenly he didn't care if he was suffocating. He didn't care about the bomb that could possibly blow him to smithereens. He didn't care about anything except watching her while she held her contorted position and patiently stroked the heel of her shoe with her finger as a light gleam of sweat formed on her pale skin and a soft moan left her lips. Riley could easily say he had never been more turned on in his entire life.

He squeezed his eyes shut, knowing that this was not the time for his masculine urges to manifest themselves. Instead of Polly's lean, sensual body that was only a few feet in front of him, he thought of much less stimulating women—women that he would never in a million years even consider being sexual in any way. Women like Abigail Chase, that scary girl from the coffee shop, even his own mother…

"Ha! Got it!"

Riley tentatively opened one eye and sighed in relief to see that Polly was on her knees again with her neck craned behind her as she picked the lock of her handcuffs. She fumbled hurriedly with the cuffs and was finally free. She didn't even take a second to reflect on her accomplishment as she speed crawled across the floor to where Riley was sitting with his knees held tight to his chest. His face was still flush as he looked up at her with his wide, blue eyes, but she just assumed it was from the near suffocation.

She knelt down in front of him and placed a gentle hand on his cheek to trace the edge of the duct tape around the back of his head.

"Riley, this is probably gonna hurt." She stopped and chuckled slightly with a sense of déjà vu when the familiar words left her mouth. "Whoa—little glitch in the Matrix there, huh?"

He groaned at her.

"Right, sorry. I'll just get it over with. Okay, ready? One…two…three…"

Riley barely had a chance to reflect on the fact that she'd _actually_ counted to three before the tape was ripped off of his face. He let out a short, strained cry as it was so painful that he imagined the skin over his mouth and across his cheeks was taken away completely with the tape. His cry quickly turned into a gasping coughing fit as sweet oxygen stung his dry throat. Polly gently patted his back until after a minute or so the fit passed and he was finally able to take a few refreshingly deep breaths.

"Thanks," he wheezed.

"No problem," she whispered back. "Just don't scare me like that anymore, okay?"

He nodded his head ever so slightly and she surprised him by pressing a short kiss to his cheek. The skin there that still stung from the duct tape felt miraculously healed as a pleasant tingling lingered where her lips had just been. In fact his entire body relaxed where he sat as her single, quick peck had released all the built up sexual tension he'd been feeling. He sighed contentedly and grinned up at her, but she was already leaning over his back to undo his tightly latched cuffs with her tiny lock pick.

"Geez, Riley," she said, her focus entirely on the metal lock and the lacerated bruises that encircled Riley's wrists. "They really had you on here good, didn't they?" If he responded, she couldn't hear him as she'd finally gotten the mechanism undone with a click. "There you go," she said while she gently undid the handcuffs and eased them away from his thin wrists. She fell back to her knees in front of him and tossed the metal bindings to the side. "Now let's get the hell out of here and find the computer before—"

But Riley, as soon as his hands were free, reached up with his stingingly numb fingers to cup her face in his hands and pull her into a deep kiss. Now it was her turn to be surprised, as her lips locked with his still somewhat sticky ones. But the spark between them had finally been ignited, and she let her eyes fall shut as she kissed him right back while her hands traced their way up his chest to encircle his neck.

Riley only pulled away when he remembered he needed to breathe. "That was…" he coughed lightly. "…Wow." He looked up at her with slightly glazed over eyes and a goofy smile. "You taste nice."

"Oh, thanks," she said with a chuckle. She licked her lips and smiled awkwardly at him. "You taste like blood."

Riley blushed. "Sorry…"

"That's okay," she said with a warm smile and another short, but sweet, kiss before finally pulling away from him.

Riley cocked his head in pleasant surprise and she gently grasped his hands to help him to stand upright.

"Now what?" he asked as he hopped from foot to foot, trying to wake up his sleepy, tingling limbs.

"Now we find the bomb," she said, turning serious again very quickly. "If my timing was correct, we've been down here for almost two hours. Which should give us a little over twenty minutes to disable the bomb…I hope."

"Wait—I thought there were a bunch of bombs?"

"There're at least a dozen bombs."

Riley gasped. "And we've only got _twenty minutes _to stop them all?!"

She shook her head. "No, nothing like that. The detonations for the bombs are all triggered through signals coming from the computer at this location. If we can shut it down, then Sloan can't detonate any of the bombs remotely."

"Ohhh I get it," Riley said after a moment with a slight sigh of relief. "Like if you break a TV, the remote doesn't work and you can't watch any channels."

"Uh, sure, I guess it's kinda like that…"

"Okay then," Riley said confidently. "Let's go break a TV."

She shook her head at his stupidity but kept her hand in his as she moved out of the basement through the open doorway. The narrow hallway was dimly lit by precariously hanging bulbs and lined with thick, rusted pipes that, for all Riley knew, served no purpose whatsoever. Polly seemed to know where she was going, and soon she led him to a narrow staircase.

They made their way up the stairs, Polly going two at a time while Riley followed slowly, his body aching with every step. But he pushed himself forward, knowing that every second they wasted was another second until detonation. At the top was another left open door that revealed a short hall and the massive room that Riley remembered from before.

Polly peaked cautiously around the corner and pointed up into the shadows on the far end of the room. "Riley," she whispered. "There're stairs and an observation room up there—I'm pretty sure that's where the guys Sloan told to watch the bomb went."

Riley gasped as he caught his breath. "But what if—"

She was quick to shush him and gesture with her hand for him to follow her. Together they inched forward silently towards a spiral, metal staircase leading upwards where it stood against the thick warehouse wall. Riley couldn't hear any movement coming from above them, but he was still nervous, fearing that someone Micale's size or larger would be up there waiting for them in the shadows.

Polly moved slowly and silently as she ascended the metal stairs, while Riley followed trying to be just as careful as she was. She stopped at the top and poked her head up over the catwalk. After a long moment, during which Riley tried very hard not to look up her skirt, she finally signaled for him to follow her up and onto the grated floor. He crawled up on his hands and knees, still nervous as he emerged from the safety of the shadowed stairwell. He looked around quickly and blinked in surprise.

"Hey," he said suspiciously. "I thought there were supposed to be guys up here?"

Polly quickly helped him to his feet. "I guess they left, just like our guy did."

"Cowards," Riley scoffed to himself as Polly moved along the thin, suspended walkway towards a wide window in the wall and a steel door next to it.

"Look Riley," she gasped, pointing through the window. "There it is!"

Riley stood next to her in front of a large window of what must have been an office that overlooked the vast warehouse. Inside was a very complicated looking computer with numerous monitors that fascinated Riley immensely. While he pressed his palms to the glass with an awed, "wow," Polly tried the door and punched a series of numbers into the keypad that kept it locked. She tried a number of possible combinations, but none worked.

"Damn it," she grumbled as she pounded her fist on the device. Riley flinched at the resulting beeping sounds that squealed through the empty room. "This isn't going to work." She tried kicking the door for a moment before finally turning to the window.

She pushed against it but found no give in the sturdy pane. She glanced around the catwalk quickly, looking for something that could possibly break the glass. Riley watched her as she approached the metal railing that separated them from a fifty foot drop. With seemingly little effort she wrenched a heavy, five foot long metal pole from the structure and held it like a baseball bat in front of the window.

Riley stopped gawking and scrambled out of the way as she pulled the pole back and let out a deep breath before swinging it against the glass with all of her strength. The pole impacted with a reverberating bang that shook the entire catwalk, but did not even put a scratch in the thick window.

"Shit," Polly panted. "Shit, shit, shit, shit…" She pulled back for another swing, and another, while Riley flinched at every deafening thump. She hit it at least a dozen times before a tiny crack finally started to form, but her strength was steadily leaving her. It dawned on Riley that she would probably not be able to break the window in time.

He cleared his throat and took a step forward. "Maybe I could—"

She responded with a growl and another series of curses. He wisely stepped back and shuffled his feet. She was still pounding away, her focus only on the device in front of her and the barrier between them. At the rate she was going, they definitely wouldn't get through in time to stop the bomb. And if that was so, then there were a few things Riley needed to get off his chest.

He cleared his throat again but kept a safe distance from her swing circumference. "Hey, Polly?" She didn't respond so he continued with a simple, "I…I just want you to know that I…like when you say my name."

"What?" she gasped while she continued to bang against the very slowly cracking glass window.

"You say my name a lot," Riley yelled over the banging. "I like that. That you say my name, I mean. Usually it's just, 'Poole,' or 'kid,' or 'hey you,' or whatever."

She didn't stop her efforts or even turn to acknowledge him as she panted somewhat impatiently, "that's nice, Riley. But couldn't you save this for some other time?"

He shook his head. "Nope. There's something else I wanna say before we die, too."

"Riley…" she groaned.

He took a deep, shaky breath. "About before… Did you…did you mean what you said? I mean when that guy with the gun was all like 'shut up' and you were all like 'ohhh Riley'…" he said the last bit in his best imitation of her higher pitched voice before returning to his own somber tone. "Did you really mean any of it?"

She jammed the pole into the cracked glass one last time with all of her strength before finally dropping it with a clatter. She slumped against the window in defeat with a shaky sigh. Then, after a long, tense second, she finally turned her exhausted gaze to meet Riley's.

"Yes, Riley," she whispered deeply. "I meant every word."

It was all that Riley had wanted to hear, but neither he nor Polly smiled. He took slow steps to stand next to her, wondering what else he could possibly have to talk about in the last few minutes of his life. He opened his mouth—to say what he wasn't exactly sure—and reached for her hand as he leaned heavily against the glass next to her.

The second he did so, a loud cracking echoed through the cavernous warehouse as Riley's slight weight finally broke the seemingly impenetrable glass. But Riley didn't move away quick enough and tipped over through the now completely broken window with a short cry and frantically swinging arms. His jeans stuck at the knees in the shattered window's pane and he ended up in a very awkward position on the other side of the wall hanging upside down with his hair barely brushing against the shards of glass on the ground below him.

Polly poked her head through and looked down at Riley in shocked surprise. Once he got over his initial shock, he looked up at her with that goofy grin of his. He raised his hands slightly with a shaky, "ta da…" as if he'd just finished some great, completely intentional trick.

Polly was careful as she smoothly vaulted over the short wall, dodging chunks of thick glass as she did so. Once on the other side, she carefully wrapped her strong arms around Riley's and helped him up and off of where he was stuck. He blushed and muttered his thanks once he was back on his barely steady legs.

"No, Riley," she said with a chuckle as they simultaneously turned to look at the sole reason they were there in the first place. "Thank _you_."

Before them, easily within reach, was a massive computer terminal with a dozen or so big screens and millions of blinking buttons. Polly dashed to the main controls looking determined but once she saw what was before her she paled considerably.

"Oh, no…" she moaned.

"What?" Riley gasped as he caught up to her long strides. "We're here, we got in…what's 'oh, no'?"

"They changed their mainframe," she said while her shaking fingers hovered from button to button. "Everything is different—the system, the source code… I don't…I don't know what to do…"

"Oh," Riley said simply as his eyes roamed over the mass of machinery before him. He cracked his knuckles. "Well, let's see what we've got."

"No, Riley, we've got to be really careful," she warned as the sound of his rapid typing suddenly echoed through the room. "If we miss a single line of code, the bombs could be detonated prematurely…" She got down on her hands and knees and crawled underneath the device. "I should be able to disable it manually." She suddenly groaned in frustration when she saw the multitude of colored wires that snaked along the floor. "But we'll probably be blown to bits before I can even find the right connection. Riley," she called as her fingers started separating the cables. "Could you help me find the—"

A pleasant ding sounded from the computer above her and Polly lifted her head to find the source of the sound. The next thing she knew, she was staring up at a message that was typed out in bold green letters on every monitor. It said simply, "Directive Terminated."

"See, that wasn't so bad," Riley said with a smug smile on his face.

Polly was in shock. "Riley…how did…what did you…?"

Riley shrugged. "Piece of cake. I just disabled the bomb and deleted some important looking doomsday stuff, encrypted some of their other files, sent a crippling bug through their entire remote system…no big."

"You…you did…?"

"Yup. Let's just say these guys are going to need to start from scratch, because their server and any hard drives connected to it anywhere in the world are gone for good."

"… …Really?"

"Yup," Riley said confidently. "Oh, and look what else I found," he said, returning to the computer screen. He typed rapidly for a moment, tabbing through prompts and scrolling various menus before Polly even got a chance to read them. When he finally stopped moving his fingers, she saw an elaborate map and a building schematic on the screens in front of them. "This is their bomb shelter or whatever—we can just give this to your guys and they'll find them and take them out. Problem solved."

She gaped at him for a moment before the widest smile he'd ever seen grew on her face. She surprised Riley by suddenly springing to her feet and throwing her arms around his neck. It took him a second to get over his shock and return her warm embrace.

"Oh, well, it was nothing, really," he said.

She actually laughed shakily in relief while her face was pressed somewhere into this shoulder. Riley patted her back awkwardly, as she stood inches above him and had to lean down to hug him properly. Not that he was complaining, though—as long as his own face could use her chest as pillow, he was content.

He cleared his throat. "So…since we, ya know, saved the world and everything…you think now's a good time to make out again?"

She pulled away with a bright smile and tears of joy in her eyes. He took that as a yes, but the second he'd gotten on his tip toes to kiss her the sounds of yelling and a mass of stamping feet echoed through the warehouse below the control room. Riley and Polly's faces paused with their lips barely an inch apart and turned simultaneously to look down at the mass of heavily armed and very organized men that were raiding the building. They wore Kevlar vests with the bold initials "O.S.I." on their backs.

"Huh," Riley muttered, obviously disappointed by the interruption. "I totally forgot about those guys…"

* * *

_Me too! Until just now… :)_

_Thanks for the reviews and holy crap sorry for the immense gap between updates. I ended up diverting from schedule drastically due to finals week, because oh man was I craaazy busy with papers, presentations, projects, etc. And then there were Christmas office parties, end of semester shin digs, and all that good stuff. So I pretty much had to write most of this chapter like just now because I hadn't finished it yet. Which is probably why it's kinda rushed and sucky. I had more stuff planned, like with guys on the catwalk, but I said "meh…don't feel like it." I had too many ideas to do at once, and I didn't want to complicate things or drag this out any longer—not with the end in sight already. But, hey, if it's any consolation, the last three chapters are pretty much finished and waiting to be posted :)_

_Oh, and Merriest of Christmases, everyone! See my deviantArt for my Christmas card :)_


	10. I'm so gracious

**Chapter X: I'm so gracious**

Riley wiped the last of the dried blood from his face and glanced at himself in the mirror before him. His injuries didn't look so bad now that his face was clean. Sure he had a bandaged gash and dark bruising across the bridge of his thankfully unbroken nose, a split lip, a shiner beneath his right eye, and a bright welt on the side of his forehead, but other than that his face wasn't too bad. And he didn't have that all around swollen guy-who-just-got-beat-up look. He liked to think the markings on his face looked more like the injuries a brave, tough action hero would get. They were his battle scars that, along with his stained and torn clothing, somehow made him look more debonair than ever before.

He tossed the bloodied paper towel to the trash bin and fell back on the very comfy king sized bed with a contented sigh and a hiccup. Riley's day was finally looking up for him, even it was nearly over. He was in the most lavish hotel he'd ever seen in the biggest penthouse suit he'd ever been in. This was Polly's place, or where she'd been staying for however long she'd been in the area spying on Sloan. After the O.S.I. guys had managed to track Polly's location and bust into the warehouse, the place was thoroughly searched and processed while both Polly and Riley gave their long winded accounts of what had happened to them. Thanks to Riley's quick hacking skills, they were able to locate and destroy all of the disarmed bombs as well as Sloan's secret bomb shelter. The agents were preparing to go after the rest of the terrorists when Polly suggested it was time to go home. Riley had been immensely grateful the other agents agreed and took him and Polly back to the city. Riley didn't even mind that the O.S.I. guys didn't have time to take him all the way back to his apartment—Polly's place was much, _much_ nicer.

"Yes…okay I will…thank you, chief."

Polly strolled back into the room following her interrupting phone call and snapped the cellular device shut as sank down next to Riley on the bed. She grinned at him before reaching towards the nightstand to refill their two glasses with more celebratory hotel champagne.

He looked up at her and took his glass with a wide smile. "Good news?"

"Very," she said, holding up her glass to clink against Riley's. "Cheers."

Riley poured most of the liquid down his throat in one large gulp, too tired and tipsy to even hold the glass to his lips any longer than necessary. "So…wait…we got them already?"

Polly finished off her own glass and set it back on the table alongside the now empty bottle. "Sloan and his goons were right where you said they'd be," she explained in response to Riley's query. "O.S.I. got there and the entire faction of their terrorist syndicate here in the States has been arrested. We won't be getting any trouble from them for a very long time."

"Definitely good news then."

"And we couldn't have done any of it without your help." She patted his chest affectionately and eased herself off the bed to stand in front of the mirror Riley had been looking into just moments before. She kicked off her heels, though even without them she would still stand inches above Riley's head. She eased her torn and stained blouse off and tossed it to the side with a slight groan of disgust. She was left in a small tank top with her pale shoulders and upper back bare as she examined her torso casually for previously hidden bruises.

"But I'll need to be back to headquarters tomorrow morning," she was saying. "I have to make sure someone can drop you off at your townhouse before I leave."

"Okey dokey," Riley muttered, as he was—for probably the millionth time that day— much more interested in gawking at her than really listening to what she was saying.

He perched himself up on his elbows and watched her from behind as she undid the barrette from her hair. Dark, wavy locks slipped out of the bun they'd been done up in and fell down over her shoulders with a light bounce. She was taking small pearl earrings out of her ears when she finally caught him staring at her through the mirror. A pink blush rose in her cheeks as she smiled at his reflection.

"What are you looking at?" she asked playfully without even turning around.

"Hmm? Oh, nothing," he mumbled with another hiccup. He wished he could get the goofy smile off his face but he seemed to be stuck looking that way. "I was just…thinking how pretty you are."

"Really?"

Now Riley was blushing, too. "Well, yeah. You are. Pretty, I mean."

She turned to look at him face to face with a smirk. "You're just saying that to get me to sleep with you, aren't you?"

"Wh-what?" Riley stammered. He felt himself break out in an uncomfortable cold sweat. "I wasn't…I didn't mean to…_insinuate _anything…I mean…"

She smiled seductively took slow steps towards the bed. "I saw how you were watching me before," she said in a husky voice.

"B-before?"

She took the glass that he hadn't even realized was still in his hand and set it to the side. "Yeah—before when we were in that warehouse. And even before that, too. You've been staring at my legs in particular since I met you this morning."

He swallowed hard. Generally when a girl says that she'd caught him staring at her, it would result in his face getting slapped. "N-no I wasn't…if I was I, uh, didn't mean to, really…"

She crawled up onto the bed and stopped so her knees could straddle Riley's legs. He clamped his jaw shut and sat very still, wishing he wasn't so nervous all of a sudden. He was practically trembling in her close proximity.

But Polly just leaned forward, looking more beautiful than ever as she whispered seductively right into his ear, "so, Riley Poole—would you care to join me in bed?"

Relief washed over Riley and he sighed, "oh my _God_, yes." He was immensely grateful she'd asked him. It was always easier to get going when he didn't have to beat around the bush…so to speak. "Okay, so should I start…or did you wanna—"

She didn't give him a chance to finish as she pressed her slight hands to his chest and leaned in slowly until her warm lips caressed his. He let himself fall onto his back on the bed and she fell with him, her mouth never leaving his as her hands ran up his chest to caress his neck and face.

Riley kissed her right back, all the while trying very hard not to wince when her tongue brushed against the sore spot in his mouth where a tooth once was. He was stiff for a moment, unsure of what to do with his hands while hers started to undo the buttons of his shirt. He figured he'd better follow suit and brought his hands blindly around her waist and let his finger trail down her bare lower back. He was just starting to fumble with the zipper on her skirt when he paused and pulled his mouth away from hers with a funny look on his face.

"What?" she asked breathlessly. "What is it? I didn't hurt you did I?"

Riley didn't hear her as he screwed his face up in intense concentration and suddenly put a finger in his mouth, like he was searching for something there. When he finally retracted his hand, it was with a triumphant grin and a tiny spec of metal held between his fingers.

Polly blinked, unsure of what she was looking at for a second. Then her eyes widened with realization. "Oh wow. How did you…?"

Riley smiled deviously. "It can't tie cherry stems, but my tongue is a freaking _divining rod_ for microchips, I guess." He crushed the tiny tracking device between his fingers and flicked the pieces to the side. "Looks like you're gonna need a new filling, though. That kinda sucks."

He didn't get a chance to elaborate on his "why I hate dentists" speech, as Polly suddenly stopped gawking at him and kissed him even more fervently than before.

What followed was like a wonderful dream to Riley—a dream that he actually got to _finish_. He didn't know how much time had passed or how many times they'd made love, but all was going extremely well for both of them until Riley did something very, very stupid…

"I…love…you…" he whispered softly as he craned his neck to press soft little kisses to her throat and collar bone. Though seconds after the words had left his mouth his eyes widened and he suddenly froze in horror. _Did I _really _just say that?_

Apparently he did, because she too stiffened for a moment before gently easing herself up and off his body. Polly laid down next to him and pulled the sheet up over her bare chest. "Um, Riley…I—"

Riley sat upright with a wince and frantically shook his head. "No, no…it's okay, I didn't really mean…to say…I mean, I _like _you, a lot, but…but this happened kinda fast…and I don't really get, you know, _laid_ a lot, so…" He smacked himself in the forehead when he realized what he'd said. "Ugh…that's not what I mean either…you're _great_, really. I just don't want to ruin…this." He waved his hands around dramatically to indicate the situation they were in now. "I swear I didn't mean to let the 'l-word' slip if it made you uncomfortable, and if we could just forget about that and go back to, you know, _doing it_, then that would be really super awesome—"

She reached up to put a finger over his lips and smiled. "You really can't shut up when you're nervous, can you?"

"No," he whimpered pathetically.

"It's adorable," Polly said with a giggle.

Riley still didn't smile. He wasn't sure if that was a compliment, or if she was just making fun of him.

"I really do like you too, Riley…"

He nearly melted into the sheets with relief. "Oh, thank God," he sighed as he leaned in to kiss her again.

"…But you have to understand," she said, her voice and expression suddenly very solemn. "I…I didn't intend…_initially_ for any of this to happen, or for us to go this far. Not that I'm not glad it did," she added quickly. "It's just…it's weird. It's like we're just taking some pleasure after a really, _really_ crappy day. I…I want you to know that I'm truly sorry if you feel like I used you today, or led you on tonight…what with the booze and everything…"

"No way," Riley insisted. "I wouldn't think that. No way."

She smiled, despite the sadness that remained in her dark eyes. "That's good. I would hate for your last impression of me to be of like a desperate _whore_ or something…"

Riley blinked, his confused face now leaning over hers and only inches away. "Wait, what do you mean '_last_ impression'?"

"It's…complicated," she said slowly, wondering how she should properly phrase her reasons for leaving without really hurting his feelings. "We can never see each other again."

"Why can't I see you again?"

"I won't be in this area for much longer—or probably ever again."

"Oh," he mumbled. Polly chewed guiltily on her lip, but Riley still couldn't quite grasp what was supposed to be keeping the two of them from being together. He snapped his fingers as the answer suddenly came to him. "No, wait I get it. Are you, like…moving or something? 'Cause we can just figure out the time change thing and I'll call you. I don't know how great the phone sex will be, but there's a first time for everything, right?"

She shook her head ever so slightly. "It…it's not that easy, Riley…"

"Sure it is. You have a phone, I have a phone. What's so not easy about it?"

She stared into his big, beautiful blue eyes that looked back at her with such innocence and adoration…and she just couldn't tell him the truth. She couldn't tell him that in her line of work, having contacts or relationships with anyone would only mean putting those people in danger. She'd already lost too many of her loved ones in the past—loved ones that had been sacrificed for things they weren't even a part of and would have never really understood. And she didn't want to do that to Riley. Not after everything he'd already been through today because of her.

Instead of trying to explain to him why he could never see her again, she swallowed hard and forced a smile as she reached her hands up to caress his neck and pull him back into a deep kiss.

"Okay," Riley said when they separated for a momentary breath. "So does this mean you're cool with the phone sex?"

She forced a smile. "Of course I am." She resumed kissing action…

…But he pulled away to speak again. "And…you're gonna be my girlfriend?"

"Sure, Riley," she said with a soft laugh to cover her feelings of aching betrayal. "I'll be your girlfriend." She stroked his cheek with her finger and leaned in again, but Riley still wasn't done with their little conversation.

"So…now that we're boyfriend and girlfriend…" He paused, obviously liking the sound of their new titles. "Can I just…ask you something?"

She looked confounded, not knowing what else he could possibly want to ask her. "Um, yeah, I guess so…"

"If Reiy's not your name, and Polly's not really your name either, I was just wondering…what _is_ your name?"

"Oh." She smiled warmly and didn't hesitate for another second before answering, "it's Anya."

"Wow," he muttered with a sleepy grin. "Pretty name for a pretty lady." He reached forward to embrace her but stopped when a thought struck him. "Wait a second…with all these secret code names, you're not gonna have to like kill me or something now that I know your _real_ name, are you?"

He looked honestly afraid of her answer, so she laughed and ruffled his hair affectionately. "No, Riley," she chuckled. "I guess I won't have to kill you. We just need to keep this little secret to ourselves, okay?"

She spoke to him like he was child, but he didn't mind. He was too tired and elated that he had a girlfriend to care. "Okay," he yawned.

He had just enough energy left to gather her into his arms before exhaustion finally claimed him. His heavy eye lids fell shut as she planted a gentle kiss to his lips. He sighed contentedly and held her close, thinking that, even after everything that had happened to him, maybe today hadn't been such a bad day after all. He would get almost kidnapped and mistaken for a secret agent and beaten up every day if it meant being with Polly…or _Anya_ afterwards. He quickly drifted off to sleep, while images of her beautiful face and body embellished his dreams.

Riley was so out of it that he didn't even notice when she gently eased out of his grasp and off the bed without a sound. She quickly cleaned herself up and redressed in a freshly inconspicuous outfit before gathering her things, determined to leave as the sun rose. But at the doorway she paused, unable to take her gaze from Riley's peacefully sleeping form. Her heart broke to see him so content and serene, knowing that her leaving would be devastating for him. She also knew that staying would hurt him even more.

She stood there for a moment in her internal debate, chewing on her lip when she suddenly dropped her bag at the door and took quiet steps back to the bed. She leaned down to kiss to his temple and smiled when Riley sighed euphorically in his sleep.

Polly didn't hesitate now when she moved back to the door, gathered up her things and left after closing the door quietly behind her.

* * *

_I was thinking a lot about Dustin Hoffman's character in "The Graduate" for some reason while I was writing nervous Riley wanting to have sex—"Are you trying to seduce me, Mrs. Robinson…" :) And sorry Rolly shippers, but Polly had to leave somehow. I was gonna kill her off but then she wouldn't ever really be able to come back if I so choose to bring her back—I mean, this isn't a Batman comic for crying out loud…_

_Seriously though, thanks very much for the reviews everybody—it really means a lot :) __Oh, and Happy New Year! See you later in twenty oh nine. Let's hope it's better than twenty oh eight was._


	11. my name's I dare

**Chapter XI: my name's "I dare."**

Riley awoke from his pleasant dreams when he felt something prodding at an already sore spot in his side. He groaned and turned away from whatever it was and buried his face in a pillow.

"Sir?" a distinctively Hispanic accented voice said. "You need to leave now…"

_Well that's weird_, Riley's barely conscious mind thought. He figured he must have had the "Telemundo" Spanish channel or something on in the background. Whatever was on, the something was still poking at him, now in the middle of his back. It was very annoying.

"Pardoneme, sir," the voice was saying, now even louder than before. "You cannot be in this room anymore…"

Riley turned slowly with every intension of shutting the TV off so he could fall back asleep, only to find himself looking up at a stranger standing over his bed. His blue eyes widened and he was instantaneously awake. A petite middle aged lady in an apron was staring back at him with a broom handle pointed in his direction with one yellow gloved hand, while Riley's boxers were held gingerly in the other with two fingers as if the material held some sort of contagious, disgusting disease. She poked him once more in the side for good measure.

"This room was check out of," she said sternly. "You cannot be here."

Riley let out a horrified squeak as his cheeks burned with embarrassment. He scrambled for the blankets and pulled them further up over his chest to ensure his nude self was completely hidden from view.

"I was…how did…what…?" he sputtered.

The cleaning lady sighed. "Housekeeping need to clean room."

"Wait…I'm in a hotel?"

"Si."

Riley blinked stupidly up at the woman and for a brief moment he had no idea where he was or how he'd gotten there. Then it all came back to him as he realized what he'd thought was a wonderful dream had been a reality. He smiled to himself and glanced quickly around the room, his grin fading when he realized he was alone with the housekeeping woman. "Where's Polly? …I mean Anya?"

"Who?"

"Anya, my girlfriend. You know, the girl I was with last night."

The woman shrugged as she clearly did not know who Riley was talking about. "Someone check out of this room awhile ago."

"She did?!" Riley yelled. "Well where'd she go?"

The look the maid gave him told him she didn't know and she didn't care.

"Oh man," Riley gasped. "She really left?! Crap! I've gotta go after her!"

He snatched his underwear from the cleaning lady before diving under the sheets and out of sight. His hand shot out every once in a while to retrieve the bits of garments that were left on the floor next to the bed, and after a moment of sheet rustling he emerged again, now fully dressed in his tattered and blood stained clothes. He slid off the bed and fell to his hands and knees on the floor as he searched frantically under the hotel furniture for his sneakers.

The Hispanic woman watching him cleared her throat impatiently. Riley didn't acknowledge her until she gently poked him again, this time in the side of the head.

"Ow," he cried in surprise. "What the hell…"

Having successfully gotten the young man's attention, she pointed her broom towards the foot of the bed where two worn black and white canvas sneakers lay. Riley speed crawled to them and quickly slid them on. He didn't even bother to tie the laces as he shot up to his now Chuck Taylor clad feet and dashed for the door.

As he passed, the housekeeping woman cleared her throat again and held her hand out, expecting a very generous tip. They were in a penthouse suite, after all.

Riley stared at her for a long second before smiling and taking her hand to shake it, completely missing the point of the gesture. "Thanks a lot," he was saying with a gracious smile. "Muchos gracias, por, uh, waking me up and stuff. But I gotta go catch my girlfriend now." He released her hand and dashed out of the room down the hallway, yelling "adios" as he did so.

The woman stared after him in disbelief. After a minute she shook her head and muttered some indistinguishable foreign curses under her breath before finally getting to work.

Riley rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet in the elevator while he stared impatiently at the blinking lights of the descending floor numbers. He didn't even notice that the other riders were keeping their distance while they stared with muted alarm at the blood staining his torn clothes and the bruises that marred his pale skin. The only thing on his mind was the image of Anya waiting for him outside of the hotel. She would lean down to kiss and embrace him, and he would take her hand so they could walk off together and live their lives happily ever after…

A pleasant ding interrupted Riley from his day dream. As soon as the elevator opened on the lobby floor, Riley dashed out into the brightly lit, spacious room and was just about to sprint pass the front desk when a male voice called out to him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Poole? Mr. _Riley_ Poole?"

Riley skidded to a halt on the smooth tiled floor and rapidly turned his head to find the source of the voice. A well dressed, slightly balding man standing behind the long check in desk was waving to him. Riley looked around, just to make sure he was the Riley Poole being referred to, then walked over to the man with a bewildered expression on his face.

"Um, I'm Mr. Riley Poole. How did you—?"

The man looked Riley up and down from behind his upturned nose. "I was told to look out for a young man who appeared to have come from a train wreck, or some such thing. I figured you fit the description to a T."

"Oh there was no train," Riley explained. "Car crashes sure, but no train…"

"Fascinating," the desk clerk said blankly. He retrieved a white envelope from somewhere beneath the counter and held it out to Riley. "This was left for you by a woman whose penthouse suite you were apparently occupying."

"Really?" Riley was very surprised by the message, and hesitated a moment before taking the envelope eagerly in his hand. "Thanks. So is she like waiting for me somewhere or something?"

The man groaned, apparently very bored with their conversation. "I don't know and quite frankly I don't care. But your room has been checked out of and I need you out of the hotel before you scare away potential customers."

He turned his attention to the growing crowd behind Riley and the security guards that were ready to make a move if the possibly dangerous battered looking young man decided to do something particularly crazy. Riley took the hint and was quick to back away from the desk and sprint out of the lobby, past the crowd of staring people, out through the rotating door, and into the parking lot.

He didn't get very far before his pace slowed to a crawl and he had to use the parked cars around him for support while he caught his breath. When he reached the busy street he managed to walk for barely a block before he found an empty bench on the sidewalk and sank down on it, still breathing heavily as his body reminded him how sore and tired it was. He sat there for a moment, alone in the morning sun as he glanced around eagerly, just to see if his new girlfriend was waiting for him somewhere on the street. She hadn't been outside the hotel or in the parking lot, and she certainly wasn't anywhere in sight from where he was currently sitting, so he finally turned his attention to the note she'd apparently left him.

He tore through the envelope quickly and pulled out a carefully folded piece of paper with the hotel's logo printed as the header. Riley had to read the neatly scripted handwriting three times over before what it said finally sank in to him.

"Riley," the brief note read. "I'm sorry to leave you hanging like this but I had no other choice. I know I promised to stay with you, but I can't do that and risk you getting hurt again because of me. I thought a lot about what you said last night and I want you to know that I love you, too. I love you too much, Riley.

"Maybe we'll see each other again, in another life at least. I hope we do. Take care of yourself Riley. Love, Reiy, Polly, and Anya."

And that was it. A mere paragraph of letters that said volumes to Riley as conflicting emotions bubbled up inside of him. He initially felt surprised, then betrayed and even angry. Why had she lied to him? Riley didn't mind the potential danger—surely the previous day's events proved that to her. But she obviously thought so little of him that she left in the middle of the night without so much as a "goodbye."

For a brief moment he considered tearing the letter up and letting the scraps fly away in the wind. But then he read it again, his eyes lingering on the three little words that made his heart flutter. She'd said she loved him. So maybe their parting was for the best—they weren't really _couple _material anyway. They were two very different people who happened to have a mutual affection for each other. And that—despite Riley's unrealistic hopes of a relationship with her—was that and nothing else.

He stared into space for a long time after that. He watched the traffic go by while his mind wandered and he tried not to wallow in his own self pity. A few sorrowful tears sprung to his eyes but he looked up into the sky and fought them back, telling himself that he was a grown man, and grown men don't cry over girls they've only known for one day. He blinked madly and tried to focus his attention on something else to help him forget about Anya. He spotted a crowded bus stop across the street from where he sat slumped on his bench and stared at the people there. His eyes saw someone that looked very familiar but he couldn't quite think of where he'd seen the man before. Riley stared for a long moment and the man suddenly stared back, his brows furrowing in recognition. The man was big, bald, and looked like he'd been through a night of hell, but there was no mistaking the fury in his eyes when he noticed Riley across the street.

"Ohhh, craaap," Riley moaned as he finally recognized the man's face.

Of course Micale had escaped. Riley figured the giant probably even took down a few government agents on his way out. And now he'd caught sight of the annoying young man who'd gotten away and ruined his plans. He hadn't been able to kill Riley before, but it was clear he was going to use this particular moment to amend his previous mistake.

Riley's eyes widened and he sat up straight in his seat when Micale suddenly took a step off the sidewalk towards him. He knew he should run, knew he should hide, call for help…do _something_. But he couldn't. He was frozen with fear and exhaustion where he sat on the bench, watching the man who was taking large stomping steps towards him with his massive hands clenched into weighty, white knuckled fists.

But the behemoth had apparently forgotten he'd been waiting for a bus—a bus that was running a few minutes behind schedule and did not have time to slow down for a crazy person trying to cross the busy roadway. The charter vehicle came to a screeching stop only after it had struck Micale and sent the man flying down the street. He crashed face first onto the pavement and Riley thought he could hear even from a distance the crunch of Micale's skull breaking with the impact. People screamed and cars swerved out of the way even as a crowd was steadily gathering around the immobile body. But it was clear to all, based on the growing pool of blood alone, that the man had been killed.

Riley's rapidly beating heart slowed when he realized he was going to be okay. Micale was dead and Riley no longer had to worry about anyone coming after him. A broad smile grew on his face and he chuckled insanely to himself at this latest unforeseen turn of events. After a moment he calmed his laughing enough for him to be able to stand and hail a taxi through the mess of police cars and ambulances that had gathered around the scene across the street.

"Hey, you didn't come from that accident, did you?" the taxi driver asked suspiciously while he looked Riley's shabby form up and down.

Riley grinned and shook his head. "Not that one."

The driver looked momentarily alarmed by the young man's outward appearance coupled with the smirk on his face but did not deny him a ride after Riley found that the wallet was miraculously still snug in his back pocket. He told the driver his address and sank comfortably into the back seat. It looked like things were finally looking up for him again…

…But he was still locked out of his apartment. He'd completely forgotten that little detail until he arrived at his quant little townhouse and tried to get in through the front door. Riley groaned and banged his aching head uselessly against his door. He wondered if he should just slump down on his front steps and hope that something exciting would happen like it did yesterday. He was going to do just that when he heard the sound of a car door slamming shut behind him.

Riley immediately perked up and turned to see a taxi parked on the side of the road in front of his apartment. And leaning into the car to pay the driver was the back of a woman. A lean, curvy woman with pale skin and dark hair who was wearing heels, a pencil skirt, and a light colored blouse. Riley held his breath. Did he dare to hope…?

The woman stood straighter with a large suitcase in hand and Riley realized with a heavy heart that it couldn't have been Anya. This woman's hair fell only to her shoulders and she was much more petite than the secret agent—she was Riley's height at least, if not a little shorter. That, and she was older with at least few strands of grey hair starting to poke out of her dark locks. The woman finally turned and caught Riley's eye with her dazzling blue ones.

"Oh, hiya Riley," she said sheepishly.

Riley's jaw dropped. Of all the people he'd been expecting—and hoping—to see, she was the last of them. "Mom?!"

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Hey, look who's back :) …And pardon my giggles but I think some of you thought this was done already. It's not, really! I have more to say :)

_Thanks a bunch for the reviews, and stay tuned for the final chapter four days from now. In that final chapter, I will make an announcement regarding the reposting of a certain little—or not so little—story that was DELETED after only four months on this site…_


	12. All the while

**Chapter XII: All the while…**

She approached him with a shy smile and a wave as she stepped up onto the sidewalk. He came back down his few steps to meet her, his mouth still agape in shock as her expression suddenly turned similarly. Mother and son each froze a foot away from the other awkwardly, both looking horrified at the person before them. They started speaking at exactly the same time.

"Mom, what the heck are you doing here?"

"Riley, how did you hurt your face?!"

"I walked into a wall, is that so hard to believe?!"

"What, I can't visit my _only_ child every once in a while?!"

"Well you could've maybe _told_ me you were coming..."

She opened her mouth to retort again, but shook her head as instinctive concern for her son overwhelmed her urge to chastise him for snapping at her. She reached forward and put a tender hand on his uninjured cheek.

"Aw, _ma_," Riley moaned. "I'm fine…really."

She ignored his complaint and examined him thoroughly, taking in every bruise and bandaged cut on his face as well as his tattered and blood stained clothes. "Oh my God, Riley," she said in a strained voice. "Who did this to you?"

He rolled his eyes. It was like he was in middle school again being bullied by the bigger kids. And while his mom was always good for some momentary comfort, her efforts to get the bullies in trouble generally just led to Riley getting his head stuffed down a toilet or something equally unpleasant inflicted by said bullies. But he wasn't a child anymore. He didn't need her to protect him or to fight his battles for him anymore. And he certainly didn't need to lie to her to hang on to what little dignity he had. He had every intention of telling her everything that had happened since her phone call to him the day before, just not immediately. He was too tired.

"Ugh, it's a…a long story, mom," he finally said with a sigh. "I don't really feel like getting into it right now—"

"This is serious, Riley," she exclaimed. "Have you even _seen _your face?!"

"Yeah I've seen my face," he muttered. "I see it all the time in like mirrors and stuff."

If she heard the quip, she ignored it and continued ranting while visible anxiety sparkled in her bright blue eyes. "Did you go to a hospital at least? Or the _police_? I'm going to call the police…"

"No, don't bother. I'm fine, I promise," Riley insisted. He gently took hold of her hands before she could reach into her purse for her cell phone. "It really is a long story. I'll tell it to you later. It's treasure related…sort of. Or not at all, really. But I think you'll be entertained by it anyway."

She looked almost frustrated with him for a second, but didn't pull her hand out of his grasp. Finally she sighed heavily in defeat, reluctantly giving into the fact that her son really didn't need or want her help. "Fine, Riley. I want an explanation for this, though. You don't get these kinds of bruises from nothing…"

"I know, ma," Riley groaned. "I already told you I'd tell you what happened."

"Well whenever you feel like getting into this story of yours, I've got all the time in the world to listen." She looked away from him with a frown and folded her arms across her chest.

Then they stood again in awkward silence for a moment before Riley realized that something was different and a little off about his mother. She wasn't just frustrated with him—she looked genuinely…sad. At first he'd just assumed it was because of his own battered and pathetic appearance, but he soon realized that she was using her concern to mask why she was really there to see him. Riley had had her as a mother for all of his twenty six years and could easily say that he knew her vast emotional spectrum better than anyone else.

"Mom…" he said slowly, hoping he wouldn't upset her and send her off on one of her angry tirades by bringing up a potentially sore subject. "What happened with that…that guy?"

She still didn't look at him. "What _guy_?"

"You know, that French dude you were going to marry…"

Riley knew he'd discovered the true source of her misery when she visibly suppressed a wince. But she looked back at her son with a shrug and an obviously forced indifferent expression. "Who, David?" she commented simply. "He wasn't French—I just met him in France. He's from like Ohio or something."

Riley raised an eyebrow.

"Okay, okay," she finally said, relenting with a roll of her eyes at the look on her son's face. "We broke it off last night. So I got the first plane back to the good old U.S. of A. that I could and came looking for you. I didn't really know where else to go." She shuffled her feet absentmindedly, obviously humiliated that she had to go to her son for help. Generally this kind of situation happened in reverse, with Riley going to her for help. Riley wasn't quite sure how to react.

"Oh," he muttered. "Well…did you just get in?"

She nodded. "About an hour ago."

"So what are you going to do about the place in France I bought you?"

She shrugged. "Screw it. I'll just sell it or something. I don't know why I thought it'd be better over there in the first place." Then she blinked quickly and looked away from Riley to stare into the sky with a shaky breath. Riley knew that look better than anyone, as he himself used it too whenever he needed to fight back the tears. "I just…I should have seen it coming. He was cheating on me, or I was helping him cheat on someone else…I'm not sure. All I know is that afternoon, a while after we got off the phone, I caught him with his ex wife. His _ex wife_—an ex wife that I didn't even know he had! What an asshole, right?"

She tried to dismiss it with a short laugh, but the second she'd locked eyes with her son's again her lower lip started quivering and her eyes glistened with fresh tears. Riley reached for her the same time she reached him and the two Pooles wrapped their arms around each other in a comforting embrace. He wasn't surprised that her relationship had fallen apart already, but still—he knew how much it sucked to think you loved someone, only to find that the someone did not share the same feelings.

"It'll be okay, mom," Riley said softly as he rested his cheek against her soft hair.

"Why me, Riley?" she whispered while she buried her face in his shoulder. "Why do I always end up with my heart broken?"

Riley shrugged half heartedly. "You have bad taste in men…I dunno. I guess you just don't like being alone."

She pushed away slightly to look him in the eye. "But I was never alone. You were always there and still…" She sighed and swiped a tear from her cheek. "I really messed us up, didn't I?"

He smiled sadly at that. "Yeah, you kinda did."

"I'm sorry Riley," she moaned. "For everything. You probably think I'm a terrible mother."

"What? No way—I could never think that," he said quickly. "You're just kinda…different, that's all."

"Ugh," she moaned. "I'm not sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or not."

"It is, really," Riley said genuinely. "There are plenty of people out there with way crappier moms."

"Oh thanks, Riley," she said sarcastically. "I feel _sooo_ much better now."

"Hey, can I tell you something, like dead seriously?"

"What."

"I'm glad you're not getting married again."

"Really?" she sniffled.

"Really," he said with a grin. "I like being the only man in your life."

She rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that grew on her face. "Well what about you, then?" she asked after brushing away the few tears that still streaked her cheeks. She composed herself so well, no one would have ever assumed she'd been crying just moments before. "Now that you're a _man _all of a sudden…" Riley snorted at that, but she ignored him. "Is there a possible future daughter-in-law in the works that I should know about?"

Riley swallowed hard. He honestly hadn't been expecting that. He blinked slowly at her while in his mind he wondered if he should tell her about the night he'd just had. He wondered if he should mention how it was probably the greatest night of his life. He imagined his mother would say something critical, or maybe even warn him of the dangers of a one night stand and sex before marriage.

But then again that would be hypocritical of her. After all, she was only married the first time because she'd been pregnant with Riley. Her relationship with Riley's very distant father had been the shortest of them all, as teenage nuptials rarely last.

"No, I don't have a girlfriend," he said finally, as though those few words dismissed his feelings of Polly…or _Anya_ completely. He frowned and let out a disheartened sigh. "Not anymore."

"Oh, Riley," his mother said gently as she gathered her son into a gentle embrace again.

"_Ma_," Riley whined. "You're smothering me…"

"If I had a nickel," she muttered with a chuckle. "I swear, I've been hearing that one for over twenty years."

"Ever since I learned the phrase and wondered why your picture wasn't in the dictionary next to the word with a caption that reads 'one who smothers.'"

"Very funny," she said humorlessly. "At least I'm only smothering you with love…though there have been times when you can be particularly frustrating…"

"DYFS, I'm calling DYFS," he yelled lightheartedly to no one in particular. "My own mother just threatened to suffocate me because I'm annoying…"

"Alright, that's enough." She pushed away from his chest and blushed as she smiled at his wide, goofy grin. "I honestly don't know where you got that smart mouth of yours."

Riley scoffed. "I'm sure you don't."

She ignored his comment and continued seriously, "but you think you would have learned by now that all it does is get you into trouble."

"Oh, trust me," he muttered, recalling yesterday's events encounter with a shudder. "I've learned that lesson the hard way."

She shook her head at him. "I can see that. Your lip is bleeding, by the way."

"It is?" He licked at his split lower lip and winced at the familiar taste of blood in his mouth. "Aw, not again…"

"Come on," she said with a sigh as she ascended the few steps towards his front door. "I'll help fix you up…" But when Riley didn't move to join her she turned to see her son still standing on the sidewalk. "What? Were you planning on us just standing on your doorstep all day?"

"Uh, yeah," Riley muttered. "About that… I'm kinda locked out."

She put her hands on her hips and glared at him. "And how did you manage to do that?"

"It was really easy, actually—see I left my keys in my room and thought my door was unlocked while I went out real quick to get coffee."

"Riley…"

"It's okay. I've just gotta go to the landlord and get another key." Riley groaned suddenly. "If he gives me another key."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "What do you mean 'if'?"

"I'm sort of, uh, a _repeat_ offender."

"Honestly, Riley," she muttered with a shake of her head. "I don't know how you've even made it this long on your own."

"Trust me, I don't either." He gestured for her to join him again on the sidewalk, and together they started off towards the landlord's office. "It doesn't really matter anyway—I'm getting out of here soon."

She looked away from him and back towards the apartment, noticing for the first time the sign posted on his fence as they walked past it. "You're…moving?"

"Yup."

"But where are you going to go?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned for his well being.

He shrugged. "Some place…cheaper. I dunno. Money's been a little tight lately. But Ben said I could just move into the mansion if I couldn't get another place right away, so I'll probably end up taking him up on the offer. And did I mention he's got a _mansion_?"

"Oh, wow," she said simply as she suddenly forgot all about Riley's house and money issues. "So…is he still single?"

"Who?"

"Your friend Ben."

Riley made an exaggerated gagging sound at the picture that had materialized in his head of his best friend and his mom together. Intimately. "That's just gross, mom, seriously."

"What?" she responded slyly. "He's never dated an older woman before?"

"Eww, I don't know—I don't _want _to know. Besides, he's back with Abigail again."

His mother perked up considerably at the sound of another familiar name. Riley had told his mom everything about his life, including stories about his friends, their families, and their problems. "I always thought she sounded like a nice girl," she said. "When can I meet her?"

"By 'meet' I assume you mean when can you attempt to sabotage her and Ben's relationship for your own benefit?"

"_No_…I mean when can I meet your friends. They are real, right?"

Riley rolled his eyes. "Yes, they're _real_. Besides, you've already met Ben—you know he's real."

"Riley, that was five years ago. I need to be reintroduced."

"Yeah, sure thing," he said, pulling away from her for a second so he could open the door that he'd led her to. "We'll all do dinner or something. It'll be…_swell_, I'm 're just not allowed to embarrass me or anything."

She grinned at him as he gestured gentlemanly for her to go in the door while he held it open. "I resent that, you know. Trust me you'll be glad I'm around to keep you from embarrassing _yourself_."

"Psshaw…like I could really embarrass myself." He chuckled and put a confident smile on his battered face when his morbidly obese, greasy landlord glared at him from where he sat. "Mom, I don't think you realize what a ridiculously cool guy I am…"

END.

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Ahh…and the story comes around full circle :)

_Thanks everybody for reading my last National Treasure story. Seriously, those of who reviewed any or all of my stories are awesome—I'd name you all but you know who you are :) I think the lack of Ben and Abigail and normal National Treasure crap was a real turn off for some people, but whatever. I enjoyed it very much. In fact I'm giving myself a congratulatory pat on the back right now for finally completing it…there you go…good job, self :) ...though I'm actually pretty sad it's over :(_

_And— … …Wait a second… … …did I say last National Treasure story? I did?! Well I was totally lying. "Sequel featuring the return of Polly (Anya)?" you may ask, to which I reply "someday…" I've got ideas for that—good ones—but first I have something completely different in mind. Inspiration has struck me in the darkest way possible, but I think what comes out of it will be a great story. That won't be for a looong while though, if it ever happens (don't get your hopes up yet), as I've kind of got a lot of other stuff to do first. Oh and school's a bitch. Too be frank, I don't even know how I found the time to finish "Boom." But I hope you guys will stick with me for some of my other stories (I'm posting a CSI story about little Greg next) while you wait for another National Treasure one. Seriously. Go read my older stuff and tell me what you think. I believe that my most successful story is the one that I spent the least amount of time on—my "Dark Knight" one shot. Go figure :)_

_The choose-your-own adventure story was the most successful until…well, you know :( Which brings me to the announcement…my long awaited decision…I have decided… …that I can't make a decision. Because here's the thing: I could repost them as separate stories—there would be six in total—but I don't want to repeat all the chapters over and over again, and if I don't I'm afraid that a bunch of disjointed one shots will get too confusing. Also I don't want to risk the possibility of getting deleted again. So I figure, "what the hell I'll let the readers tell me what to do." I'll have you guys pick the like best three story lines or so, and I'll just post those in their entirety. If anyone remembers a particular storyline they liked, give me a holler in a review. I've also decided to make a new poll so everyone can vote on which ones should be posted. Hooray for democracy! Go ahead and look at that, or just throw your opinion in a review, or whatever. I want to decide sometime in the beginning of next semester—say, February-ish—so that I can post without doing a lot of writing and thinking during my very busy Spring. But know that if I don't get an overwhelmingly good response for reposting, I will not do it. So there! I've gotta go back and read the whole thing, because I haven't since the summer time, and I'm still pretty bummed about it having been deleted in the first place :(_

_So, anywho, thanks again to everybody for reading, reviewing, alerting, favoriting….for everything. If it weren't for you guys' support I probably would never have finished anything :)_


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